RICK METCALF

NORTHBOUND MOON

Graphic | Northbound Moon | Rick Metcalf click image for full-size

I got to ride with Grandma on a trip from California to Oregon.
Grandma told stories and I just propped my head on a pillow
against the window and enjoyed the passing view.

A half-thousand mile trek northward begs a story
Some piquant morsel gleaned from yesterdays
And Grandma laughs mid-phrase as she recounts it
My nose pressed flat against the limpid pane

Tall redwoods in an upside-down armada
Sail swiftly by our car on either side
Wakeless in a blue-grey, waveless ocean
Whose fish with wings swim impudently near

Tall sails dim into eerie long-armed phantoms
All grasping for the sequined cape above
Their never-ending battle rages southward
The rushing moon fades in and out of view

Then sequin-stars evolve to velvet blackness
Her stories blur into a jumbled muse
Until half-dreaming as the door squeaks open
I hear her whisper, Ah, we’re finally home