An Afternoon Moon

Somewhere outside of Philadelphia,

there is a small island in a pond shaped like a boomerang.

When I tilt my chin to the heavens,

I wonder which foolish god

threw it to this barren part of earth?

I sarcastically ask them if they are still

waiting for their toy to return.

In the afternoon I drive home

to the Pennsylvania-Dutch hills.

I raise my sun-bound face

to the sky, and to my surprise,

there in the heavens, I see it:

the yawning crescent moon!

I chuckle, knowing I am foolish

for thinking God ever left us.