1
Moon represents wisdom, intuition, birth, death, the rhythm of time. Owls who perch in the hollow trees can only speak to the moon in a circular language. Who—
Moon speaks back in the language of the lost. With a ghost tongue covered in buffalo grass. With the “o” carved out—hollowed—from our loss.
Moon is a pearl-tinted mouth, a tide that drags us, violently, toward truth (it’s up to us to find our feet under us and rise).
If we let her, she could pull this doomed world off its axis. But haven’t we had enough of disaster? Better to let her pearl mouth seal against us—
2
dust storms, fallow fields, what constitutes “the disaster” did not just happen to the land. It happened to our story.
Erasure can be an act of recovery, an unearthing of artifacts left buried in another text. Blackout a part of one story to reveal another underneath. The way a dust storm can rewrite a field, a farm, a whole town, carrying soil from one state to another. An echo that bends.
Reader, who will we find under all that dirt?
The bare earth’s core and the liquid fire that stokes beneath: a pulse, beating.