It Gets Very Dark until the Moon Rises

Poem by Mary Meriam

Night falls and darkness drives her pick-up truck  

down Highway 86, speeds past the pub  

into the hills and hollers, forest, shrub,  

and vine, gets tangled, caught, and deeply stuck  

until she sinks for good in leaves and muck.  

She flicks her cigarette, the sunset stub,  

as gunshots hit the town’s Masonic club.  

In total darkness, she is out of luck 


except for this night’s moon, which shows her face  

slowly at first, first hidden in the air,  

but rising, shining, growing, giving dark  

a dream, a fantasy of light, a place 

less troubled by the lack of day, a fair  

of light, with tended paths, a lover’s park. 


 American Arts Quarterly, Winter 2015, Volume 32, Number 1