Anytime I hear “Blue Moon” I’m transported back to the mustard-colored carpets of my childhood. Grease Lightning flashing from a small television screen. I was barely past puberty the first time I understood abandonment. Waiting in the spotlight of the moon like Sandra Dee for a boy who wouldn’t be coming over.
To moon or be mooned? It was the ultimate defense mechanism. I had to feel what it was like to be the cause of other people’s laughter.
Whenever Grease played, my sisters and I would pretend we were at the Bandstand, put on outfits, clap, tap and twirl. Tell my mom to be the judge as we tried our best to outshine each other. Even now, I wonder if it is colder to be tapped out or to dance on? Either way, I may end up standing alone.
Rare blue spotlight
exposes pale, fleshy parts.
Bare soul, but clothe heart.
d’Verse Poet’s Pub | Haibun Monday 8-28-23: Super Blue Moon~Join us.
Artwork: “Once In A Blue Moon” Linda Camel





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