[8crazyideas]

When my son was 19, he insisted on taking a solo trip to New Zealand. As it happens, he hiked around and worked on farms and generally had a great experience. But naturally at the time I was concerned that he have a safe trip and a good experience. After I said goodbye to him at the airport, I went home and wrote a poem. It incorporates the moment when I first experienced this perception of the moon:

On Leaving for New Zealand

Once on a morning in deep winter I spied the moon almost full but not quite Over the roof of the house where I was delivering the morning newspaper.

Between splayed branches Earthshine making its roundness plain To show that it was a rock suspended Like the earth around, solid but floating too.

In those days there was no son Or daughter, or wife or plan. I could not guess what things would be Or where my route would take me.

Yet now if I stood on the moon’s dark plain And looked down from there, I might see My son standing on the far southern sphere Looking back up at me.