You were the moon in the depths of the night and
I was the constellation you had spent your life
Raking the heavy, patterned sky for,
We both emitted the light
Needed to save one another,

I wanted to capture a moment of our time together,
Maybe a faint chuckle of yours,
Or a single teardrop that traced your cheek when
You said you must go home now
And I must seek a new adventure,

If I could only trap your smile and tears
And seal them in a bottle to set sail in the sea
To send my future self some memories,
Or snapshot a ray of love in your heart
And remember what it was like
To have taken that part,

But my plane was approaching departure
And your ship had left the harbour,
All there was left to do was inscribe those
Moments – the seconds at which our lines crossed
And our paths knitted together – into our stories,

The threads had to split so that we
Could try chase the sun after years of darkness,
Someday, far far away, you might discover me
Sleeping on the moon,
Waiting for you, and for us,
To resume.

“This poem was written two months after my nan died and a few days after my grandad died. It was inspired by “Perhaps (To R.A.L)” by Vera Brittain.

I am nineteen years old for Dublin, Ireland. I began writing poetry at age thirteen and since then I have been highly commended twice and shortlisted once in National Student Poetry Competitions. I have also been published twice in White Ash Literary Magazine. I currently write humorous and serious articles for a few well known Irish websites but poetry is my haven, it allows me to explore and dissect my thoughts more than any other form of writing.” – Hazel

Lara Wilson

Lara Wilson

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Lara holds a B.A. in Comparative Literature. She's a native New Yorker, an after-school English tutor, and a bookworm.
Lara loves photography and horseback riding.
Lara Wilson

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