In the warm night the corner boys seem younger. They’re practicing footwork with invisible basketballs, pivoting around each other. One takes a jumpshot and his gaze follows it up to the shining moon. “Yo,” he says, “is the moon a planet?” He’s looking at the smallest of the boys, the wiry one who must be the answer man among them. Answer Man says, “The moon’s name is Maria.”
Archive for the 'moon' Category
It was as big and bright as is possible given the orbits and angles of planetary motion. It hung low by the borough’s lone skyscraper, dwarfing the neon clock on the tower. I was going to the bodega for a soda, but I stopped a while, leaning on a parking sign’s metal post, washed over by the impossibly lovely light. This man walks along, gnawing on a fried chicken leg, giving his back to the sky’s spectacle. I stop him. “Did you see the moon?” I ask. He pulls the chicken away from his teeth and looks at me as if to say, but you don’t look crazy, honey, what’s up with that? Finally he plays along and asks, “It full?” I say, “Yeah, but it’s really really big,” and I point behind me. He shifts around a moment to see. Then he turns back to the way he’d been going, shakes his head, and sucks a sliver of meat from its bone.
It seems there’s no one on the sidewalk. I’ve got my head tipped back to see the dark blue sky. I feel the air shift a little, someone is dancing around to avoid crashing into me. We are left standing too close, but neither of us moves. “You see a spaceship up there, girl?” he asks. “No,” I tell him. “I am looking for the moon.” I’ve been standing on tiptoe, searching the sky. But it’s hiding somewhere, behind a tall building or below the horizon of the brownstones. “I can’t find it, can you?” He takes a step back now, looks around. “Nope, but you know. Gotta have faith in the moon.”
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