LIFELINE PROMPT: LA LUNA, MI AMIGA

The Moon Cradled Her Fears

wouldn’t let elders see a six-year-old’s tears . . .

No place the man wouldn’t poke his pud thinking himself the ultimate stud no compunction about flesh and blood buncha kids wallow like pigs in mud.

Irrational road trips were his crack driven to the Grand Canyon and back twelve of them trek without any pack anyone who cries gets a fist smack.

No accommodations and no canteen endless switchbacks scored in-between eons of stone burnished to a sheen hunger pangs spank and thirst is mean.

Monsoon bombs dowse raw midnight there are no jackets and no flashlight nobody complains to thwart a fight clouds reveal a plump moon in sight.

Six-year-old sits on a rugged stone bench overhang drips from a spooky night drench fear and dread make a tiny body clench as moonbeams spill, her soul to quench.

Eternity of worship, Grandmother Moon often, it’s tears punctuated by a swoon wherever a crushed heart may be strewn her lullaby croons just like a curative loon.

Hikes may be rugged and crags are tall I barely remember the drudgery of it all La Luna cradled me when I was small now she’s my lover at life’s curtain call.

Good thing I was the baby of nine. So young, I was oblivious to how torturous our family vacations could be.

Thanks to Sahil Patel for his Lifeline prompt:

Alec Zarenkiewicz . . . I simply love this:

Curt Melzer . . . speaking of meaningful treks: