Because really, who gets to touch the moon? Tonight, she’s close. I might. I take flight. I feel foolish...but I feel four again.
The moon rounds immense, incandescent globe grazing ours. Her gravity pulls, pearl filling deepening sky, stringing me unto the universe. If I race to field’s edge, earth’s rim, can I stroke her lustrous curve, drink her lily-white skin?
I laugh. I am still a child.
~Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts