"The Envy of the Moon" by Christopher Fox Graham

"The Envy of the Moon"

By Christopher Fox Graham

The Arizona desert is so silent

that on a night like this

you can hear the Moon

because of the distance between here and there

it takes time for messages to pass between us

but tonight I ask,

"Moon, do you envy the Earth?"

on most nights,

the Moon remains silent in the night sky

unwilling or unable to reply

but tonight,

tonight on the breath of the wind

deep and slow like it had centuries of time to contemplate an answer

I heard the Moon whisper, "Yes."

when speaking with heavenly bodies

you must slow your mind

understand that they do not enunciate impatiently

every syllable takes time to shake free of its surface

so they only speak when gravity is worth the weight

"Yes, I envy the Earth," the Moon said

"we were lovers

born in the same fire

spinning like dancers drunk on each other

shattered by craters which made us old before our time

but across her

oceans hide her secrets

I pull at them hoping to see her again

I lost sight of her beneath all the green

across her, moving things became too many to count

the noise of it is deafening

your people covered across her plains

cut geometric squares that now change with the seasons

cities spread from sea coast up her rivers to the mountains

and places in between

threads of lines connect them all

you people shake loose so much of my old lover

I barely recognize her

and I wondered what is so important

that you were so busy for so long

and then a few of you came to visit

planted your feet and your flags on my skin

said things close to me

there was no time to wait for the echo like before

it was overwhelming

the Earth feels like this every day

and i'm certain some days it's more than she can take

but I would give anything to feel it again

you had stared at me for so many generations

your desire to reach me was burned into your bones

so happy to be the first

you left your names engraved in stone for those afterward

and then I knew what she felt

why she held you so tightly

why she changed herself after every eruption or impact

it was to give a few of you a chance to survive

it was the only way we could touch again

you came to visit

but none of you stayed

you left me here

and I did not know I was lonely until you were gone

but I will tell you a secret:

deep in your American South

in the bayou of a delta

there is a man who sits nightly on his porch

as the sun dips below the horizon

he plays his guitar for hours

I can narrow my vision to see his face like he was sitting here

he plays and stares at me

like we are old friends

the lunar desert is so silent

that on a night like this

you can hear single note

because of the distance between here and there

it takes time for messages to pass between us

but I strain to listen

and I know I must compensate for the delay

deafen all the other songs and stories

so I can hear what he has to sing

but on a night like tonight

on the breath of the wind

he sings of being alone

I count you daily

there are 7 billion of you around him

some within miles

be he, he is alone

profoundly nakedly alone

as though he, like me, had been alone in the dark for centuries

but remembers what it was like to be loved and touched once

and when stares at me, he knows that only I know what he feels

he sings to me

he sings for me

he sings because I

do not know how

so, yes, I envy the Earth

I want you to be here

I want your cities to spread across these ancient craters

I want to be so deep beneath your feet that I am forgotten

because you are staring out at other worlds to touch

I want you to no longer call me the Moon like I am a stranger

but 'home' because this is where you spent your lives

this is where you want to be buried

this is where you want to leave from

and never look back

I envy the Earth

because she has this," the Moon said

"she has you"

A colonized moon

Christopher Fox Graham © 2014