BY BORIS GLIKMAN
It is the middle of a warm summer night.
I am running down the stairs,
quickly and excitedly,
with my neighbours following me.
We all want to see the Moon.
It just fell down in the front yard.
I saw it coming down,
like an unwashed potato,
peppering the sky
with flecks of dirt.
There it is,
lying on the ground,
a giant spud
scrubbed clean, polished
by air’s friction.
A cauldron of bats
circle round it,
squeaking at this strange visitor.
I approach it warily.
It is ice-cold and firm to touch, yet springy too.
It sparkles in the full moon’s light,
like a tuber wrought out of silver.
I wait for it to reveal
the mystery of the night,
but the Moon remains
as it has always been through the eons.
I remember well
the comical expressions of puzzlement
on the faces of my neighbours,
and waves of ineffable wonder
washing over me.
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BORIS GLIKMAN is a writer, poet and philosopher from Melbourne, Australia. His stories, poems and non-fiction articles have been published in various online and print publications, as well as being featured on national radio and other radio programs. He says: “Writing for me is a spiritual activity of the highest degree. Writing gives me the conduit to a world that is unreachable by any other means, a world that is populated by Eternal Truths, Ineffable Questions and Infinite Beauty. It is my hope that these stories of mine will allow the reader to also catch a glimpse of this universe.”
Artist credit: Alicia Pacheco AKA Kuro
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