ode to the moons

garden, originally uploaded by Kristy and Eva.

just minutes ago, eva sang the following bit of toddler poetry as we drove home in the dark from a late dinner. the moon is rising late now, so she can't see it in the evenings. she's been thinking about this a lot. this was no performance; it was sung purely for her own joy (and that of moons), but larry and i were lucky enough to overhear it. i had to record it right away before it disappeared, falling through my fingers like so many of the glowing but slippery moments of our days.

there's no moon at all.
we can't see it, it's hiding.
papa moon and mama moon and baby moon.
they are hiding; they are taking a nap.
mama moon and baby moon are taking a nap
and having side of milk
mama and baby moon are sleeping.
papa moon and mama moon,
mama moon and baby moon,
today there is no moon at all.

i don't know if others can really, truly see it there, or if such things are just for a mama to know, but hiding behind those words is a glimpse of what makes me love her so desperately.

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