The moon was setting this morning when I went to work, a cue ball sinking into pastel clouds of baby pink and blue, rising and dipping in the curve of the mountains.

The moon was rising when I came home from work, a huge yellow ball, slipping in and out of clouds and trees and darkness.  We played, the moon and I.  It filled the windshields of the cars in front of me, and led me down a different road as I tried to catch up to it. I wanted to drive all the way into it, wrap myself up in it, sway and dance in its curves and light.

But I couldn’t quite reach it.

It made me smile to try.

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