I happened to visit a storefront a couple weeks back that’s nestled in the eastern foothills of the Sierras along I80, a few miles west of Reno. Soon as I pulled up, I noticed the full moon and realized my luck. I hurried my way into and out of the store so I could hang out a while and take in the view. As I did so, watching every subtle change for 20 minutes or so as dusk rose up to meet and overtake the moon, I couldn’t help but notice that not one of the several dozen people who came to make a purchase from this store so much as looked up to take notice of this spectacular scene unfolding before and around them. In some ways I felt sorry for these people, in other ways frustrated. How does one not notice such splendor? How does one stand before the throne of God and see nothing? I thought that impossible strains and terrors must be burdening and goading these poor creatures along to render them so incapable of seeing this rare panorama that perhaps occurs only once a year.
October Moonrise
large and silent the full moon hovers over
a pine studded ridge just inside the gray
purple haze that marks the closing
edge of night
dark citrine plates climb high into a pair
of ponderosas where they reach out to join
spiky tufts of green that overhang and
frame the moon
overhead cloudless skies still resonate
the deep cool purity of day as ravens
quietly fan claw-like wings up the canyon
home to roost
that hazy rim rises faster than the moon
it folds like an eyelid ever so slowly
on the all-seeing gaze of Odin’s singular
ice blue orb
a few of the keenest stars begin to burn
through darkness that gradually creeps
up from the long horizon like a distant fog to
touch the moon
cars pull to a pause in the newly paved lot
people emerge thumbing their phones
to the store and back never once lifting
up their heads
i sit on a rock by the concrete walkway
eyes struggling to take in every nuance
chest riven by surreal resonance with
all i see
