Poetry

Beaver Moon

With special love for the Farmer’s Almanac

iPhone hipstamatic photo by author (at the Houston Museum of Natural Science)

cold and clear
the moon nibbles
its way across
the night eating
at the remnants
of November bright
enough to be
a loud slap
in the face
without any clouds
to buffer its
sign of alarm
its call to
memory I feel
the signal in
my body
a private advent
come early this year
Awake, arise, revive
in the radiant
revelation that travels…