If he could plant flowers on the moon for her, he would—lilacs in craters’ shadows, roses in grayscale cracks, and daisies (among her favorites) facing the long, rough edge fading into space, their yellows and oranges spiraling in front of endless black; and if he could spell her name on that same surface, he would and would time the sun’s passing that brightens the petals-as-letters like fiery birds flocking for a moment before scattering again. But he rolls over, sniffles, glances at the plastic and papier mâché spaceships that he built and strung over his bed alongside aluminum foil-ball planets that he painted.
“Moonflowers,” William Auten, Illuminations 35, summer 2020
“Moonflowers” is now available in Illuminations 35, summer 2020.
Thank you to Simon Lewis, staff, and College of Charleston’s Department of English—and thank you for reading.