Full Moon Reminders

The full moon assures me 

another thirty or so days will pass,

another day will always come. 

Even past the days when sunrise equated to 

another morning cherished

that I had woken up to your hand grabbing onto my thigh, 

blankets rustling to move your body to cradle mine.

And when the nightfall meant

my cheek pressing down on your collarbone,  

breathing in all the different scents you picked up during the day,

having touched the things you tend to.

Water to your dirt,

shade to your sun,

wind to your branches,

my toes in front of your beaten boots.

Snipping off the tops of what’s freshly earthed

isn’t only a loss 

when there is another purpose it serves.