MOON earrings

“Gasping for air, I run towards the glowing moon on the heels of the night machine. The treetops brush the damp mist. Feet sink into a cold swamp bath. There are no letters in the crisp iridescence whose meaning I should doubt. The moon presses her eyes into the back of her head and pours her contoured blanket over the weary eyes of the world. The night machine throbs heavily. Should I keep running? The frozen pines hold their breath and the wind caresses the bushes. Not anymore. The night machine disappears far into the shadows of the moon.”