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.