Yellow Moon

By Roger Brown

I am wading quietly under the yellow moon surrounded by cold ebony sky.

Fiddling squid onto my hook I am impatient as rabbits in the summer.

I stand tall at 6’1 but only half that when my old, loving grandma comes in the room.
 
I come from hard workers like the praying mantis hunting grasshoppers for her final meal of the fall.

I am an ambitious flower fighting for my spot on the forest floor just to have the chance to be discovered by a wandering child.

I am loud as a vuvuzela but quiet as a crocodile inside.

I am the laughing hyena howling at the ones around him.

I've listened to the turquoise stories from my family for years.

and I will slowly recount them to the yellow moon.