When the moon is full and nearest to earth,
I peer out my door, listening to naught:
Silence so stark, nude, a startling stillness
in landscape bathed with light near-bright as day.
I was overcome with bleak, awed wonder
by precise pin-point delineation
of trees, leaves, sheer outline of hump-backed hill.
Does this lost child of earth influence us?
Haunt us in near inexplicable ways?
That august presence looms above my head
and makes me feel smaller than I prefer.
Moon, you are so much a part of my life:
Wondrous, lifelong friend who makes me feel safe.