Moon

There are moons that can not be forgotten

such as that moon that filled the sky that one September.

We were coming up over the hill—you, Dad and I—and it met us through the trees

pale and powerful overtaking the silent repeating pines 

You had never seen such a harvest moon in all your life.

Tonight another such rises but pinioned by what she has come to reap 

a thousand miles from here 

you have no such thoughts

lost in a private delirium seeing images that are no more

meeting those who are no longer

wondering how much more time is worth.

All of us, 

we wait unable to know, not knowing what's next

while Dad who loves you most knows only that he has forgotten

caught up in a bramble of slowly unknowing

not knowing even that as you sit beside him

you are joyfully slipping out with the September moon.