Full Moon

The rooftops will not save you—in all their majesty, nor
will late summer nights in the sand. Instead, try this:
Try knowing the moon in all its phases, even the ones
that lack royalty. Try using the moon to keep time like
they did in the days before our obsession with watches.
Try new obsessions. Try me. Try benches. Try chocolate.
Try moving that caterpillar across the sidewalk. Try doing
the opposite of what you always do—waiting on time to
pay the bill as if it owes you some change. Try staring too
long at the painting and see if you can’t find the artist’s
mistress in it. Try the rock in your shoe. Try the cosmos.
Try your hardest to heal yourself, only to get stitched up
by the sudden words of a stranger as they shrug, “This
night’s easy.” So, I don’t know, maybe try rooftops. But
know that it wasn’t the rooftop that saved you. It was the
impossibility of it. After all, the moon waits for nothing.
It becomes the time by phasing through it. Try finding the
reason for the cliché. Try waxing. Try waning. Try that.

Saint Augustine in Ecstasy, 1665-75

Oil on Canvas
Bartolomé Estebán Murillo
Spanish (Seville), 1617-1682

Photo taken at the Seattle Art Museum, 2022