Blue Moon

A Triangulation of Images Over the Course of One Weekend

by Johanna DeBiase

1. I noticed the approaching ambulances did not have their sirens on. Three firemen stood around the wreckage of an SUV, upside down in the middle lane of the highway. Even in the rubbernecking traffic, there was an eerie silence as we passed just a few feet from the accident. I wondered how it happened. Only the front portion of the roof was crushed. The window was rolled down. And then I saw it, a sight that still haunts me, a sleeve of a plaid shirt, much like the one my husband beside me was wearing, a torso folded over itself.

2. It was watching us as if it heard our old truck coming from way down the dirt road. It just stood there staring, its eyes following our path along the bend. “Stop the car. What is that?” “A dog? A fox? A coyote?” “I've never seen a coyote that wasn't running away.” A minute passed in that long pause before it turned and ran back into the forest. “Yep, that's a coyote.”

3. The blue moon rose over the mountains. My daughter and I laid in the river, the water rushing over us, cooling off from the hot baths, giggling. “Mama, why does the moon follow me?” “To watch over you.” “Why does it watch me?” “To keep you safe.”

the sound wing makes on air

by Robin Powlesland

coconut husk 6ft away 

from compost barrier

crow sucks air above head

an ant crawls across dirt

in front of concrete where 

I sit in front of sitting

there is a distance between words

and what crawls where

there is a distance

between what crawls in mind

and what crawls green

egg shells on dirt

and dried husks of what was

metal piles of drying string

empty and unstrung

the spot where the old Chilean

hammock hung

has only dried thread

and half broken clothes pins

the crow makes known

#22 Jose Pacheco

and distance streaks

between the branches

it's home wherever

we/I go

this place outside of

my skin itches

with the insects

and my breath hardens

with the air

I can go wherever

I want to