Between the Moon and Me – William Reichard

Its light spills in through
the open window.
The white cat sleeping
next to me turns to
mercury as the moon
holds her in its hands.
I don’t belong here.
I should be out in a field,
lying on by back
in the grass, looking up
at the milky light.
My pale skin should be
covered in a fine patina
of silver, perfectly gilded.
A woman I know
told me my soul
wasn’t born on this earth.
She called me a star child.
She said I’ve lived
for thousands of years.
Perhaps I’m old as the moon.
Perhaps that’s why
I love it. We’re twins.
He lives above.
I glow below.
He looks down on me
while I sleep.
I always keep
the window open
just for him.

William ReichardWilliam Reichard is a writer, editor, and educator. His seventh poetry collection, Our Delicate Barricades Downed, was published by Broadstone Books in 2021.