Last week, I enjoyed reading Ruth Bowen Hersey’s poem “Snow Moon.” She speaks of viewing the Snow Moon, knowing that her grown children were seeing the same moon many time zones away from her place in Uganda. In case you missed it, you can read her poem here. Her poem inspired mine today.
All Three Homes
Three homes far away
My two grown daughters
Building their families
And us in southern California
We miss the privilege of proximity
But some days we inhabit a small world,
Like when we all fear for and pray for
Syria and Türkiye,
East Palestine, Ohio.
Or when we all see the same Snow Moon in February.
Or, like today, when we all have snow
At three homes far away.
To close, here is a sweet poem by Naomi Shihab Nye, “Famous”:
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.