Tonight is the full Sap Moon. As I look at my window, I can see the opal light glowing on the maples, brushing the buds with a soft celestial kiss. It is rising steadily over the mountains of Wendell, up and up, arching over my humble home, and it will soon shine through my window, keeping me awake with its taunting lunar gaze. I imagine it saying, “Come dance with me.”
I think there is a little bit of Doug in this moon (my cousin who passed away a few weeks ago). I found one of his poems that he sent to me, and it filled my heart with joy. Here it is:
The Harvest Moon and I
By Doug Hancock
During autumn in the high country
we spent many evenings at my lakeside campsites
sharing the warmth of an open fire together
and watching the sparks spiral up into the broad sash of the milky way.
We often flirted there
with you sometimes winking at me
or staring full on with your bright face.
I could feel you tugging at me
drawing me toward you with your gentle hands
with the same firm fingers that move everything you see.
For hours we listened to the night sounds together
the two clear notes of the Poor Will in the needled branches
and the bugling elk traveling through the dark forest
the shush of the low waves on the lake shore
and the rustle of bush and tree
stirred by the evening breeze down from peaks.
We could feel the temperature dropping
sinking below the mountain shoulders into the valleys and across the lake
pressing the cold and fire smoke along the ground between us into my tent.
From there, I could see you leaving
moving slowly away
slipping behind the distant mountains
as I fell asleep and lost you to my dreams.