This December, Mom got two full moons —
one at the beginning of the month
one on New Year’s Eve.
That night we talked like only
mothers and daughters can —
naked speech — rocky as the lunar surface.
Am I a satellite orbiting her earth.
Or is it the other way around?
Have I been pulling all her tides?
Sometimes, staring into this eclipse called cancer,
I find myself standing alone
without a dream in my heart or a love of my own.
I drive home, leaving her to ring in the new year
with my dad, the love of her life.
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold.