Land and sea kindle outside
the glass pane window, full moon
sweeps in her pregnant form, tugs
at the tide, casts far-reaching umbra
of the alder tree’s branch, the rusted bird- house,
the neighbor’s planked fence,
against the weather-worn southern wall
of the house. Inside, the aberration
of hum, the vibrational
glow of the Milky Way projects, spins
against the ceiling, the fixed North Star
blanketed in star dust, glow in the dark
plastic constellations orbit the space
from their fixed position. In the corner,
a galaxy hoodie drapes over a chair.
The daughter and her cat sleep soundly,
stellar storms and storylines cross valleys,
summit peaks in aimless dreams, write
horoscopes in the comet’s tail of slumber.
Here in the quiet hush, a syzygy of moon,
terra and child.
Kersten Christianson is a raven-watching, moon-gazing, high school English-teaching Alaskan. When not exploring the summer lands and dark winter of the Yukon Territory, she lives in Sitka, Alaska with her husband and photographer Bruce Christianson, and daughter Rie. She completed her MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry through the University of Alaska Anchorage (2016).