My daughter discovers the snow is hard-crusted, so after dinner we head out for a walk. The nearly-full moonlight illuminates the snow. We head behind our house, slip through the fence, and walk through the cemetery. Below us, the town’s lights wink red and white.

March, and I’m biting at the bit — but for what? The clamor of spring peepers. Those late afternoon swims, lazy on our backs, staring up at the sky. The scent of wet dirt on my palms.

Laundry on the line on this Sunday afternoon.

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.

by Naomi Shihab Nye


About Brett Ann Stanciu

A writer and sugarmaker, Brett Ann lives with her two daughters in stony soil Vermont. Her novel HIDDEN VIEW was published by Green Writers Press in the fall of 2015. Let my writing speak for itself.
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3 Responses to Moonbeams

  1. I can imagine sleeping under that quilt after it has lived outside all day!

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