the moon + clouds

Last night I think the moon was full.

At least it looked like it, behind the clouds.

I once had a dream when I was old enough to realize that I had only a little time left of being small.

Snowing and a full moon. I and my mother skating swift smooth laps with the rest of the people, small beneath the skyscrapers. The weeping willow by Wollman Rink bent double over its own tears, the only sound the slice of skates in ice.

We skated until the clouds covered the moon, until the crowd grew tired and wet with snow, until the sweat froze, glamorous salt crystals on skin, until we were alone, fast and fierce.

I forget, now, whether the swans swept us up with them or if we just watched them wing into the whiteness, the cold clarity of the sudden wind that opened the sky. I remember how the stars fell with the snow, and how the swans sang not the song I know they do, that rough trumpet cry, but deep bells. We watched until they reached the moon.

I woke and felt tears on my cheeks.

This is what I think of now, when I look at the moon.

© 2015 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.


4 thoughts on “the moon + clouds

  1. “I once had a dream when I was old enough to realize that I had only a little time left of being small.”

    Beautiful line.

    Like

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