Art: Luna by Mary Hanrahan
MOON TRASH
A trash man skids to a stop.
The colonizers hired him
to feed relics into a mouth
of metal teeth, slicing the past
like his grandfather’s serrated knife
skinning a rabbit
in Lake Cadillac country.
70 rovers, modules, crashed orbiters —
2 golf balls — 1 gold branch
as a human offering to the cosmos.
In gravity boots, he hikes
up into the highlands
where Charles Duke
left a crinkled photograph:
Dottie in a sea-green dress —
Thomas with a hand
on his mother’s knee —
Nicholas still a boy
in a tie and button-down —
Charles of course smiles
behind everyone — not
as an astronaut
but a father and husband
standing with his today and tomorrow
under a white crescent moon
stitched into the fabric
of a light blue sky.
Over a family man’s sun-knife stare,
the trash man holds his gaze
because his daughter’s heart
offers life on an earth crust home
crawling into the business
claws of his eyes.
About the author:
Keith Mark Gaboury earned a M.F.A. in creative writing from Emerson College. His poems have appeared in such publications as Poetry Quarterly, New Millennium Writings, and on the podcast Who Do You Think You Are? Keith is a poet and preschool teacher in San Francisco, California.
Art: Luna by Mary Hanrahan
In the artist’s words:
Mary Hanrahan is a poet and artist living in East Lansing, Michigan. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing and an MA in Counseling. Her work appears in Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Bottle Rockets, Sonic Boom, The Magnolia Review, Hedgerow: a journal of small poems,The Ghazal Page, and elsewhere.
