lunatic

On night walks, her head shines with fluorescent thoughts in warm shadows. And sometimes she follows distant human chattering to its source, peering through trees at lights and people, but tonight she flees and floats, a homeless ghost, down dark sidewalks, past buzzing bulbs, just islands of light in the churning night. Some lamps flicker as she passes and pretends to control them while wild lightning bleaches orange clouds above, a passing storm. She stares through windows, gazing long at living room worlds she's never known or has forgotten. So warm, so real, so fate-forbidden. A gentle mist falls through her, and the humid breeze holds the bitter scent of burning wood. And further, she hears nothing but her feet until she pauses in the peaceful road for a little eternity: no cars, relaxed, hopeful, the world washed clean by the night. She passes through a kudzu tunnel teeming with fireflies, floating neon candles in the black. Emerging new, she rests in a swing, bathing in the glorious quiet, soul adjusting faster than pupils. She slips into the park, away from streetlights, sheltering under a pond gazebo, contemplating the triple-reflection of the hidden sun as it filters through moon, water, eye. The frogs grow quiet when she approaches but worship again as the dark embraces her. Circling the pond, she weaves between bushy sentinels that guard the water as an irrational urge rises to the surface. She resists, almost fleeing. It feels insane but also right. So she surrenders, mounting a boulder and uncovering her auburn hair and shedding her rags to meet the bounteous blue-haloed moon as she truly is. It bathes her with a healing glow, filling her, holding her, and for a moment, its gravity lifts and her toes slip free from the rough rock . . . but the greedy earth pulls her back, and the great mother slips behind her cloudy veil. Recharged, she turns, surveying the land. She renounces her throne, assumes again her mortal skin, and drifts out of the park. A startled bird flaps its wings across her vision and away, shocked by her glowing visage. She will not look at the moon again tonight.