Moon mother

The moon has my motherโ€™s face
and the smile she gave when I swam
into her arms one February night.

She speaks my name cheerfully
down the phone. No hint of the time
passed since we last spoke.

I will try not to count the days
since my kids called. Imagine them walking
towards me. Bright, bright.

My mother the moon will not always
be here. She will turn her face slowly away,
profile changing, features softening.

She will deny the halo around her head
and refuse to believe her light is enough
to travel safely by.

Even moonlight makes shadows.
What else can it do?ย  Love cannot reach
all the things it needs to touch.

 

 

Sarah Mnatzaganian is an Anglo-Armenian poet.ย  Her debut pamphlet will be published by Against the Grain Press in Spring 2022.ย  She has had poems published in The Rialto, The North, Magma, Pennine Platform, London Grip, Atrium, 14 Magazine, Fenland Reed, and numerous anthologies.