last night i tried to capture the moon, but it was having none of my nonsense. it played hide & go seek with the queen palm that shades the front of our house (with the assistance of a cool ocean wind).
as a ploy to evade capture, the moon, when it sighed, exhaled a white light that camouflaged it from my sight. the palm, with the assistance of the wind, continued to paint the sky with its fronds (a brush, a fan, an eraser).
but the moon soon tired of this game (and my insignificance to its existence) and held still just long enough for me to reach out and touch it. the palm accepted the light of the moon without complaint. the wind held its breath.
Robert Patrick 
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