I walked into my room tonight and before I could flick on the light, I saw there in the dark, a round white circle of moon sitting on my bed. I moved my pillow down to the place, near the foot board, so that I could place my face in it, and stared hard at the moon until it seemed to pulse in the dark sky, with my heartbeat, I'd guess.
Once, in our living room, I recited Romeo to my older sister's Juliet - O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb," and once, my French teacher told me that his grandmother could not believe we'd ever landed on its surface.
I watched the eclipse last night, on and off, waiting for the "blood red" phase to cycle through. But I was too tired, or forgetful, or literal because it never bled, just browned at the edges a bit like a dying flower. And the shadow, the earth, moved over it's face. We printed our image on it's surface for a moment, like silhouetted hand puppets on a bedroom wall, waving hello, hello. I wuz here.