SHOOT THE MOON That’s what he kept whispering into my ear, drunk in the midnight forests of Maine after a mutual friend drove me up from Rhode Island in the thick of Covid, underneath a crescent moon. He was newly married to one of my closest friends, loving life and it’s new possibilities, loving me after years away from each other. but we fell short of that crazy old moon: he got a divorce within a year after I let him down on that trip when I wasn’t the person he used to know in the gnarly brush of a place where we once had youthful strength in our memories of each other, now we live in distant worlds on the earth’s disappointing surface, bruised and still dreaming of the moon.
Kevin Ridgeway is the author of “Too Young to Know” (Stubborn Mule Press) and “Vacancy” (Alpine Ghost Press), among other titles. His work has appeared in Slipstream, Chiron Review, Nerve Cowboy, Main Street Rag, Cultural Daily, San Pedro River Review, Into the Void, Plainsongs, The Cape Rock, Trailer Park Quarterly and The American Journal of Poetry, among others. He has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He lives and writes in Long Beach, CA.
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