1.2.18 Drive home from swimming lessons
Too tired for thought. The moon could see I was in trouble and leapt to get home first, flickering in and out of the trees ahead of the car like a fat white fish.
Now she crouches in view of my bed, peering under the window frame where she stopped to wait for me. She is all mass now and I think I have never seen anything so still, so solid. Dark, bare feet planted firm on the sky, she sits back on those unmovable heels and beams with her whole face stretched taut, content to go nowhere. My round-faced Buddha. My shape-shifting godmother.
I let my eyes open and close and open again.
Still here, she grins. You sleep, child. Day's done.