moonchild by Lucille Clifton
moonchild
Lucille Cliftonwhatever slid into my mother’s room that
late june night, tapping her great belly,
summoned me out roundheaded and unsmiling.
is this the moon, my father used to grin.
cradling me? it was the moon
but nobody knew it then.the moon understands dark places.
the moon has secrets of her own.
she holds what light she can.we girls were ten years old and giggling
in our hand-me-downs. we wanted breasts,
pretended that we had them, tissued
our undershirts. jay johnson is teaching
me to french kiss, ella bragged, who
is teaching you? how do you say; my father?the moon is queen of everything.
she rules the oceans, rivers, rain.
when I am asked whose tears these are
I always blame the moon.
MARGINALIA
11:42 pm. Took a photo of the bone-coloured moon. Saw a tiny little star. I thought of the Little Prince. Ah, but I am a fox, still waiting to be tamed.
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SHARED WITH GRATITUDE
This poem appeared in Blessing the Boats by Lucille Clifton, published by BOA Editions Ltd., 2000. (Available on: Amazon • Bookshop)
DESCRIPTION
“National Book AwardWinner, 2000
The long-awaited collection by one of the most distinguished poets working today.” (Source)
ABOUT LUCILLE CLIFTON
Lucille Clifton was born in Depew, New York, on June 27, 1936. Her first book of poems, Good Times (Random House, 1969), was rated one of the best books of the year by the New York Times. Clifton’s honors include an Emmy Award from the American Academy of Television Arts and Sciences, a Lannan Literary Award, two fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Shelley Memorial Award, the YM-YWHA Poetry Center Discovery Award, and the 2007 Ruth Lilly Prize. Lucille Clifton died… (more)
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