Secrets the Moon Never Tells

e2809cdont-tell-me-the-moon-is-shining-show-me-the-glint-of-light-on-broken-glass-e2809d-anton-chekhov

Our shadows ran out ahead,
shifting shapes upon the swells
and ruts of January’s snow.
Their hands always touching,
even though ours never did.
Our breaths mingled, though,
white and crystalline,
in a communion of warmth
shared only fleetingly.
But that’s how some couplings
run their courses, like
momentary pairs like unbridled horses,
ready to run headlong, though
not necessarily together.
Nevertheless, there lay our shadows,
linked, our exhalations
in exhortation of something
only possible under the unblinking
glare of the full moon’s gaze.
Then you turned the corner
and moonlight glistened in my eyes
like shards of broken glass.

Dashed off in response to Annie Fuller’s Writing Outside the Lines prompt of the latter half of the famous quote from Ground Zero of storyteller Hesch’s fiction exemplars, Anton Chekhov: “(Don’t tell me the moon is shining;)…show me the glint of light on broken glass…”

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