Poetry

The Moon and My Heart

Rebecca Beaver

The moon ate my heart.My vision was tainted.I staggered forward, uncertain.I heard something disappear.I think—I am myself.

I taste the hole in my chest.The moon’s smile mocks me.I know, I knowI am not myself—I am merely a whisperOf a husked heartbeat.

The Moon and My Heart Rebecca Beaver
Rebecca Beaver, 13
Tenafly, NJ

Stone Soup · Children’s Art Foundation · Since 1973