Moon Glow
written by: Jeff L. Mauser
Frigid tendrils of obscurity slither out of pervasive desolation
Empowered since my world’s wondrous sunshine has departed
Grazing upon the glory of the still incandescent stars brings solace
When an emboldened glimmer of moonshine splinters the abyss
Its sparkling silver grandeur shines upon my love in all her adoration
She, with her gossamer gown, frolics, whirls, and leaps, lighthearted
Dancing in the glittering moonlight, my heart aches, for she is flawless
Her smile across metaphysical dimensions touches my soul as we kiss
Overwhelming splendor forces the encroaching darkness to acquiesce
Despite death’s limitations, life we shall beguile, together, as we caress
Lying the book upon the bedside table, I gaze upon my wife’s picture. My late wife. Her love sparkles in her eyes and glowing smile. Kissing my index finger, I touch the photo. “I love you. I adore you. I miss you. Sweet dreams.”
Fluffing my pillow, I hunker down in the large, lonely bed. This poem haunts me.
Opening my eyes, it is 12:02, midnight. The light from April’s Pink full moon filters into my room from the skylight. I see the woman from the poem dancing in the silvery moonlight. Her gossamer gown is opaque. She swirls, and it rises, hinting at a teenager’s El Dorado. A married man’s downfall. And an old man’s memories of lost passion and intimacy.
I fall asleep dreaming of the warm smoothness of my lost love’s milky thighs.
Awakened by what feels like someone getting into bed, the clock reads 2:22. “Angel Numbers,” my wife used to say. Through the large window at the head of the bed, the full moon sets the bedroom aglow. I crawl out of bed and go to the bathroom. Her clothes are where she left them three months ago. I can’t bring myself to hang them up in the closet. Let alone pack them for donation.
Back in bed, I wrap myself in the covers, trying to keep the cold loneliness at bay. Awakened by a gentle snore, I again look at the clock. 3:33. “Synchronicity” is what I called it.
Where there has been a vacancy in my bed and my heart, there is now something. A moon shadow of a silhouette, the curve of her shoulder, waist, and hips. Her dark auburn hair strewn across the bedcovers. The rise and fall of her half-covered body. The beautiful sound of my love’s breathing.
I risk a glance at the clock, 3:42. She is still here. I touch her shoulder. Warm and soft. Ever so slowly, as to not break this magic spell, I inch towards her. I tenderly lay my arm across her body.
“Hmm,” she moans.
I kiss the nape of her neck. She moans and smiles. I stop myself from hugging her. I’ve missed her warmth and the feel of her next to me.
She nuzzles her body into mine, and we spoon. Closing my eyes, I kiss her shoulder and thank the universe for this moment.
Awake again, it’s 5:55. I nibble the nape of her neck. A large smile. I slide my hand down her abdomen. She is always ready for love.
Slow, gentle, and steady. I’m still afraid I will do something to shatter this dream, this wish, this magic moment.
“Oh, Hunny. You know what a girl wants. You know this is my favorite way to wake up.”
The wait for us to love matters. We now love as we have never before.
In the midst of a moan, she whispers, “Stop.” I always do as she asks. She is an amazing lover. “I want to see your smile, the sparkle in your eyes as you love me.”
She turns, lifting a leg around me. She is as flexible as she is lovely. She wraps her legs around me. We kiss, moving together until the glorious moment, and we are one. One with each other and the moon glow of the universe.
The moon leisurely sinks behind the mountains, the room slowly darkens, and the bed is empty.
- Moon Glow - March 5, 2026
- Freedom’s Just Another Word For Nothin’ Left To Lose - October 5, 2022
