[hey poet, tell me a story] or, #5 Moon Shine

If you haven’t read the last part of this story, feel free catch up here!


The moon hangs low and large in the sky tonight.

“Harvest moon,” Daddy mutters,

his eyes full of moon shine.


We stand together on the edge of the corn field,

our shadows long behind us.

The corn is taller now,

but still not tall enough –

browned too early by the late summer sun

and the sky’s stubborn refusal to give us rain.


“Harvest moon but no harvest –

well now, ain’t that funny.”

He scuffs his boot into the dry ground,

turns on his heel,

heads to the barn.


I watch him melt into the darkness,

then reappear, bottle in hand.

“Get back inside to your Mama,”

he calls across the yard.

“Tell her I’m going into town.”


I nod.


It’s a moon shine night,

and I know he won’t be back till morning.


Is this story panning out the way you thought it would? I’d love to hear from you in the comments!

Author: Hannah

Jesus follower. writer. bibliophile. dreamer.

2 thoughts on “[hey poet, tell me a story] or, #5 Moon Shine”

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