(Slice of Life is a month-long writing challenge to write every day in March, with a focus on the small moments. It is hosted by Two Writing Teachers. This year, I’m going to pop in and out, but not write daily slices, as I did for the past ten years of Slice of Life. You write, too.)
The moon this morning is barely there. Just a sliver, stuck on the horizon. Call its hue chrome, bronze, gold.
Its waning away, fading into the night sky, with trees covering its tracks. I get only a token glimpse now and then of this lost moon as I walk the dog.
If this were a storybook, a long thin thread of silk would dangle from its lower hook, and some creature would be making its way down or up. That’s the kind of moon it is this morning, a moon with possibilities.
Peace (in the skies),