paolodesade

The past few mornings I have awoken to a brightly moonlit bedroom. I lay in bed looking out the window and gaze at the moon, and all is well with my world. Except that I am alone. I hate sleeping alone, but the girl always sleeps on the couch when she doesn't feel well, and she has been sick for the past 4 days or so and this morning she started her period. So I get to sleep alone for at least 3-4 more days. I hate...oh well. Back to the moon.

When I was a boy, probably first grade or so, my mom worked until 10pm at the bar and then she would walk home. It took her about 15-20 minuets. I was supposed to put myself to bed before 10, but around the time of the full moon i would cheat. I would wrap a blanket around myself and go sit on an old couch on the balcony of our apt. building and wait for the moon to rise. I would sit there watching it slowly crest over the hill to the east, so large and bright it filled my brain with peace and longing and ...When I saw my mom come up the street I would slip quietly back inside and quickly run down the hall and back into our apt. and jump into bed and peek out the gap in the curtain at the moon until I heard her key in the lock. Then I would close my eyes and slow my brerathing and pretend to be asleep. I always fooled her.

I like to think about that time often. I wonder what secrets my boys have from me. I hope they are good ones, but I fear that they have none.