Memories of the Full Moon, by Saskya van Nouhuys

the full moon
the smell of wet leaves
stepping on snails whose shells break
under my bare feet

the full moon
that doesn't get close
as I drive toward it

the full moon
its reflection on the water
the sound of that lit water, unsettled
bumping against the dock

the full moon
looks too big in the sky
next to those delicate sparkly stars
especially because it is orange