"Hi, Moon," by Christopher Fox Graham

She says “hi, moon,”
like they are old friends.

With every day I spend with her
I wonder if they are

She knows where the moon is in the sky when I do not,
and I have been walking on this earth
compass in hand,
for 40 times her life

I rarely get lost

yet, she seems to know
where her old friend is
every time we see him

She says hi to the stars
reaches up like she can touch them

I want to explain to her
the distance
of light years

How the balls of fire we see in the sky
are millions of years older than us
And even in our fastest ship
We will never reach them in our lifetime

I want to explain these things her
but she's not old enough to understand the words

And I wonder

if she's right

Because, truthfully,
I do not know the length of a light year

I have read it in books
been told by wiser men and women than me

And I believe them

because that is what we must do
to survive this world:
believe those who study these things
so we can go about our day
living

So I wonder if she's right

If I reach out my hand and say “hi, star”
with the same enthusiasm that she does

Will I hear them speak back?

When they reach through the night sky
when no one else is looking
shake hands with me,
Touch my fingers to theirs?
Say,
“It has been some time since we've spoken.
How are you?
We are doing fine
up here in the night
watching you down there
learning to learn
learning how things grow
feeling how things feel
what gravity is
what knees are

I wonder
if she their ambassador to us
or just another traveler

right now, it doesn't matter
because she's waving hello to the moon again

and I can't prove it
but I swear I saw him wave back