William is 6 and still maintains a happy fascination with the moon. We look for it each night before bedtime and in the early morning hours as the sun is waking. We both delight in finding them in the sky together. Today's poem pays homage to this childlike love of the moon.
Child MoonThe round up today is at Semicolon. Please stop by and check out all the great pieces. Happy poetry Friday, all!
by Carl Sandburg
The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, “See the moon!”
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.
If you like this one, you can read more like it in Chicago Poems.