Sitting on the pavement
in front of our house
leaned against each other
casting shadows
in a moonlit night
You’re almost 16 now..

The pavement is still warm,
soaked with the day’s heat
and the moon is hanging
lightweight – in a dark sky
gazing down on us
mysterious and beautiful

and we chat
about presence and future
and dreams and hopes
of an adolescent girl
and the ants are biting
but we don’t care

My arm is wrapped around you
and I wish I could hold you forever
and I wish you were soaked
with my love – to be stored
and multiplied – and set free
savoring sweet memories
of warm summer-sun rays
of childhood

This poem is for imperfect prose on thursdays – hosted by Emily Wierenga



22 responses to “>Moonwatching

  1. >Wie schön! Ein toller Moment … da krieg ich grad wieder einen Moment der Sehnsucht nach einer Tochter! ;-)Ein hübsches Bild von einem hübschen Mädchen, Tochter einer hübschen Frau! Ihr Augen kommen da total gut zur Geltung. Hat sie auf dem Bild ein bisschen was von unserem deutschen Goldkehlchen Lena?

  2. >Liebe Mariella – ja – die Mutter-Tochter Beziehung…aber du bekommst dann mal haufenweise tolle Schwiegertöchter, das ist ja auch nicht schlecht… smiles – und – stimmt – sie hat ein bisschen was von Lena – ist aber eindeutig hübscher… ;o)

  3. >I'm looking forward to those particular moments as my girls grow up more each day. I get a taste of it from time to time. Amazing how motherhood changes as much as our kids do 🙂

  4. >this is extraordinary. i feel that too… i wish my boy could be stored with my love. you said it so perfectly… i love that you linked up with me, poet-friend. i learn so much from you.

  5. >Hello, "so likeable" Peep, Claudia! You have been commenting so sweetly towards me these two days, I almost feel we know one another. Rascher was a REAL "hippie" before the fakes took over 10-15 years later. He came to symphony rehearsals in bare feet. And he had this WILD look about him. And unkempt, sometimes unwashed, not the "fashion plate"–Peeps everywhere adored him. For who he WAS, not what he said, but for what he DID!Lessons we all can learn from guys like him. What memories of just a few weeks, way back. Then we met again at a rehearsal for a concert, probably in NY, and he was usually surrounded by admirers…but clearly he'd rather be playing barefoot standing in a stream of cold moving, splashing water, practicing his sax. (For those who knew him not–that was S A X)

  6. >A beautiful, touching poem Claudia. I just got off the phone with my daughter. She is 31 and in Paris. Some time soon she will be marrying a young man there – so far away.I know your daughter is soaking up that love – that it is a part of her, stored up in her heart.You are wise to savor these moments. They are all too quickly gone.

  7. >she's beautiful, and just the same exact age of my dream-wielding, baseball playing son. and you've captured so beautifully a mother's love… thanks for visiting today! 🙂

  8. >How did you make me think of both my daughter and my mother simultaneously? I remember these moments with my mother, being a teenager thinking I was supposed to not like her, but really needing those arms wrapped around me, soaking up her love. And I hope that one day, when my daughter is grown, she will let me hold her this way, too. Ah, the tears. Thank you for sharing.

  9. >even while the ants bite??that's devotion.very nice moment. i think you're idea involving bible verses is interesting. lemme think about it more, and lemme finish this wacky job i'm working but yeah, i'm game for what you propose, or some version of it. thanks. i'm kind of excited already.i especially like the lightweight moon in a dark sky.

  10. >A wonderful moment in time shared with a loved one, to be cherished for they are with us for such a short time and belong to the future.sigh.Joanny