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With all due respect (and delight) for Solstice, I offer these moon snippets from weeks two and three.

UNDER THE WAXING GIBBOUS MOON — On wooden and plastic chairs, on the matted grassy dirt outside the barn, surrounded by weeds and stars, we gather for poems with moons: gibbous moon, NASA moon, moon jellies, moon cycles, moon in annular eclipse.

FULL MOON EVENING — A satellite passes overhead, so fast on its way over and back to us, under the faint constellations, all of them busy, busy, busy with the business of light. The full moon makes its way to the lichen-draped pines.

FULL MOON MORNING — Due west: a disk, a sky body flush with light burns through my curtains. A muted sun above the ocean. Its fragmented softness there, on the water’s skin. On swaths of fog through the folds between hills, between my window and the water, as far as eye and light can flow. 

UNDER THE WANING GIBBOUS MOON — Morning inventory:

        Luna over the ocean 

        Sweeps of small cumulus

        Grass heads played by wind

        A jet passing, unseen

        Tree silhouettes on the farthest ridge

        The fog receding, its promise of return

(grayscale filter of original color photo by Jenifer Wightman)