Uncle Phillip Afraid of the Moon

This young lad is afraid of the moon,

So his father carries him outside at night.

From the protective fortress of his father’s arms, 

He bravely peeks at its face of light.

Look there Phillip, it won't hurt you!

His father’s voice is strong and calm.

The lad presses his ear against 

The warm resonance of his father’s chest,

The faint smell of cigarettes 

Mingles with the scent of dewy grass.

Did I care enough, Dad? asks the old man,

For all those animals I’ve owned? Did they 

Die because I didn’t care enough, Dad?

I can hardly bear to think of them...

The garden is still under the bright full moon.

There is no talk of waxing or waning, 

Or whether this is a memory of a memory of a memory

That never diminishes, no matter the years that pass.

The train tracks gleam a silver bend

And the village pub empties onto the road.

A father carries and soothes his son

As the men slouch back to their tidy homes.