all day long

we share our space

with each other.

my son and i.

we’ve done this before.

my belly full and round.

a moon

hung low in the winter sky.

at night,

he wriggles his way down

to the bottom of his bed.

the curtains across the window drawn open,

so that he can trace the stars

in the ink-black sky

as he falls asleep.

every morning he wakes,

hair tousled, cheeks pink

and sleep soft.

his head

where his feet should be.

feet,

where his head should be.

he has never cared much for

doing things the

proper way.

i gave him this gift.

at breakfast,

he tells me stories about how

the moon orbits the earth,

always showing the same side.

the same love.

no matter what,

she does not change.

following the same path,

she returns to her

beginning.

just like me.

and right there,

covered in toast crumbs

and the last of the chocolate milk,

happiness falls from his mouth

like light.

— on love like a moon | where i began.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Photograph by Ganapathy Kumar.