I am up north, riding in a car, my dad driving. I look out to see a huge full moon, blazing over the water. We drive along the dirt road behind the houses, past a man standing beside his mailbox, a small deer resting on his shoulders–like a shepherd with a lamb.
There is snow on the ground, just a little, fresh, pure. I wonder: Can I stay here tonight? because I so want to, as we drive on. My parents must have heat…
Even as the cottage sits dark and shuttered, all closed up, the pipes drained and empty, the lawn chairs and kayaks put away, I dream that my dad is taking me there, along a moon-drenched coast where deer come out to forage in the snow
ferrying me away.
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