Do You See This Moon?

A harvest moon hangs in a starry sky

with Jupiter tagging along, like a puppy.

Clear-cut hills, green and still,

fade to blue in twilight, layer upon layer.

Each ripple of the lake catches reminders

of day, laps them up to the shore. 

I gather my reminders of you,

the warm flannel shirt, the whisper

of your breath in my ear and send them back

to the full-faced orb. 

Basalt pillars stand like giants on surrounding

mountains, watching their goodnight,

as I watch from below them.  I stand here wondering,

do you see this moon?  The same moon I see? 

Does it send its ancient smile over the Cascades

through Chinook Pass 

to you?

By A.M. Adams