The kids went to bed late
and I try to write a poem
about the full moon
but it reminds me of the light
they hang above you
in the dentist’s chair
which doesn’t seem
very poetic
I’m tired
I say to no one
except maybe the moon
and I’m not the type
who thinks the moon
really listens
but I looked up
at her big open mouth
as the thought
landed in my skull
and I can only say
it didn’t feel like my own
to decide instead
to be grateful.