After the Party

by Deidre Abrahamsson

She dreamt of the moon again,
the moon of her childhood.
The moon that followed her home
as she drove with her family
late at night. After the party.
Nestled in the back seat of the car
with her sister and brother
she fell in and out of sleep,
glancing up at the sky
between closing lids,
and always, the moon,
following, watching, carrying
them home.

When they arrived
her father lifted her up,
her limp, resting body heavy
in his arms.

She came out of her sleep momentarily
to put her arms tight around his neck.
She heard voices.
His moon face sailed above hers.
He hurried up the front steps
to get out of the cold.