Musings on a Summer Night
by Michael Escoubas

My father is the moon rising in silvered sheen,
a boy’s fence against the darkness.

How simple is the world beneath this light.
In the great vistas of night air, a son is calmed

by stillness … expansive, immovable–
night and silence become his companions.

When a boy cannot bring the world quite round,
his other father hangs outside his bedroom window.

His presence sings a serenade of sorts–
the melody is crisp and clear, like a well-tuned

violin. Earthly fathers are far from perfect–
with demeanors often surly, not knowing

their words carry a leaden twang when heard
by young ears. Oh, Moonlight come to me,

in the simple-colored night, dispel darkness
as you sing in the cool night air.



 

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