a bridge to the moon

we found a bridge to the moon
rooted in the front yard like the thirsty willows
and the everywhere-mint.

and my son, my beautiful son,
said can we go?
before the bus arrives to take him to
lesser wonders.

we left our home, wearing the morning everywhere-mist
and sugar-sweet sunrise,
we climbed the bridge 
pulled taut like a ribbon
between two fists.

halfway to the white-silver mirror of the moon
clouds kissed our cheeks,
the waking stars caught 
on our shirtsleeves
like burrs - 

and my son, my beautiful son,
said can we stay?
on the bridge to the moon
always travelers, balancing on everywhere-wonder.

we looked down at the countless mornings beneath us,
unfurling in every window,
slipping up against every door,
a call to wake to lesser wonders.

I held his hand, his beautiful hand
and said of course

we can live here

where the morning doesn’t catch like pebbles in our shoes,
where the smile you wear is both dusk and dawn,
where the moon is tied to the earth by our desire to be nowhere 
but the everywhere-sky.