My wife wakes me up to warn me,
pointing
out the window in fright.
What
is it, we think to ourselves,
an
invader from Mars or Neptune?
Ever
so slowly a disturbingly orange-
red
moon peeks above Nova Scotia
seemingly
catching a rim of woods
on
fire, while we, in New Brunswick,
gaze
across the Bay of Fundy at 3 a.m.
suspecting that weĠre both having the
same
strange dream, and yet the novel
beauty
of it dispels our fears as we
stare
at this evolving scene all the while
a
strangely glimmering moon slowly
regains
its more recognizable form
between
two spruce trees framing
a wide arm of fragrant, salty sea.
Richard F. Fleck