Hubble telescope photo
—D.R. Wagner, Elk Grove
I had a plan like evening.
The stars were a soft red velvet.
Someone had picked the moon,
Kept it written on a small piece
Of paper I kept in my back pocket,
Even washed it twice, but it was good.
I could pick it up anywhere and dance
To it and everyone would be surprised,
Like someone knowing your name after
Not seeing them for many years.
Someday I will tell you all about it.
We will sit by the edge of the morning
Whispering about everything, afraid to wake
The day but wanting to do so badly.
There is a rapture that comes
Just in speaking of treasured things,
That wants them to be memories,
That wants them held in the mind
Until time comes for its claim.
We need be fully present to notice them.
Maybe if we stand here on the edge of this
High place and reach up as if to touch it all?