"An Inventory of Moons" by David Shumate

If you live to be very old, you may see twelve hundred full moons.

Some come in winter and you trudge out into the deep snow to

stand beneath their glow. Others come to you in the city and you

take an elevator up to the roof of the highest building and set out

a couple of folding chairs to watch it glide across the sky. Or the

moon finds you along a foreign shore and you paddle out in some

dingy and scoop its reflection from the waters and drink it down.

The moons of your old age are the most potent but seem few and

far between. They make their way into your marrow and teach it

how to hum. When your final moon arrives, it’s as if youth has

come back to you. Though instead of flaunting its yellow hat, now

it’s dressed in black.

"An Inventory of Moons" by David Shumate, from Kimonos in the Closet. © University of Pittsburgh Press, 2013.