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bridge

The moon is a silver bead, strung in the necklace of the sky.
Every night, it slides in align with the Earth.
Then we see it, small but bright.
Shimmering.
It sheds its light upon us, elegant and soft.
The light’s only a reflection of that larger bead.
It is not real.
Yet we see the light, a bright silver illusion.
It is the silver magic.
It dangles the entire night on a thin strand.
As a hand slides the necklace, the bead disappears.
Another, golden, glowing bead slides in.
Day has come.

Chloe Ma
Chloe Ma, 9
Naperville, IL

Sloka Ganne
Sloka Ganne, 10
Overland Park, KS

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