Where is My Moon?
by Charlee Olson
A quick walk—a little quicker,
Steps turn to a shuffle.
A night wind chill, lighting flicker,
Not electric, shock muffled.
These eyes on the shine provided,
Steps follow its outline.
My throat closes, a breath baited,
These feet no longer mine.
I feel the glow from a distance,
Hands outstretched for its warmth.
Darkness creeping with persistence,
My sight was now deformed.
And in one ill-fated motion,
All given light was gone.
The Heavens a purple potion,
Eyes won’t adjust till dawn.
Steps turn to a shuffle.
A night wind chill, lighting flicker,
Not electric, shock muffled.
These eyes on the shine provided,
Steps follow its outline.
My throat closes, a breath baited,
These feet no longer mine.
I feel the glow from a distance,
Hands outstretched for its warmth.
Darkness creeping with persistence,
My sight was now deformed.
And in one ill-fated motion,
All given light was gone.
The Heavens a purple potion,
Eyes won’t adjust till dawn.
Charlee Olson is a senior humanities major at Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa. While her focus in the Humanities lies in theatre and English, she hopes to attend graduate school next fall to receive a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing.