Photographing the moon

The moon bloomed orange
on the fifth of May
and all around the world
people stepped outside to watch
from parks and decks and fire escapes
from balconies and cars
from living rooms and porches,
talking in quiet voices,
singing the moon up
over the horizon
waiting as she burst into flame,
pouring liquid light
through all the windows and the trees,
down city streets and through skylights,
bathing the earth in reflected wonder
as she rose and whitened in the sky,


and everywhere the cameras
focusing, clicking,
whirring, flashing...

Here on the lagoon
the geese nod their heads in rhythm
as my neighbor strums his ukelele,
summoning the moon.
His Russian guest is asking,
what ISO? what exposure?
what focal length?

My iphone buzzes,
and my daughter has sent
a photo: there's our moon,
beaming through
her now much darker sky --
the self-same supermoon
on campus in Vermont --
and then, as I look up,
that first tiny bar of orange
peeps through the clouds
sending a larger echo to the water below:
Here it comes!
Here it comes!