“Mooon”

By Jillian Starr
The Portland Upside
March 2010


Photo by Marlene Andrejco

“Moon.”
Your dad’s finger points into the dark sky, teaching a name.
You echo it back, maybe an extra “o” or two.
“Mooon.”

Morning whispers you awake, and over breakfast
(Skin smeared shiny with yogurt and banana)
You turn palms toward daylight and ask,
“Mooon?”
Your new word moves me to memory
Margaritas beneath a warm Chicago crescent, just before the plus sign
A bursting and anxious moon, nine months full
Blurry moons of sleepless nights, of breastfeeding and bottles
Moons that lulled us both into the luxury of sleep.

I dab your chin with a bib and explain simply
about daytime, nighttime, the sun, the stars.
You smile. Maybe even understand.
Then you outstretch your arms and joyfully wonder, “Mooon?”
And your word floats up like love floats
All those perfect o’s, like eggs in an ovary
spilling into daydreamed moons of tomorrows
Wide-eyed Christmas eves
Giggling little girl sleepovers
Fevers that fold you into my arms
Late night talks, heartbreak with ice cream
These precious movements of life held permanent in our forever
Mooon.

_____

Jillian Starr writes screenplays, poetry and short stories and co-produces Time Out: The Mother of All Comedies. You can find out more about her at jillianstarr.com