liezel graham

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hoping to catch a glimpse of the Perseids, we are soft bodies filled with hope
and happiness.
the clear skies a gift.
we are not given the promised streaks of space dust lighting up the skies.
still, the disappointment is a small thing.
we are, instead, given the moon rising over the hills, bats torpedoing the dark, an owl slicing the sky, and three shooting stars.

but also, the greater gift:

standing in the dark, my boy holding my hand, his head resting on his father’s shoulder.

gazing up as one.

© Liezel Graham 2025