Moon Phases: Childhood

when it topped the mountains 
the shell of moon laid down 
            such plenty 
                        all over the fields 
            over the hills the barn and us 
it went hunting in the trees 
            those cloaked figures 
                                    watching from creekside 

and we seemed small in its sweep 
but could smooth its potion light 
            into our skin 
choosing pale clothes 
            to mark our places 
                                    more than shadow 

our calls carried 
like they never did 
                        on daylight 
            deflected across fences 
            onto the host of hills 
no stars out tonight 
                                    all star points flooded 
            by the moon filled to its brim 

the bleached wood of barns 
the granary roof 
                        slicked in silver salts 
that candescent amulet fastened 
            above our night play

our pause 
as a shadow dampness crossed 
            our backs 
            a sudden cloud trail 
                                    wreathing the moon 
and we looked up and behind 
            knowing that something 
                                    raven quick 
could reach out at any moment 
and turn us 
                        to our own dark sides