It was the moon, all rowdy and rollicking, that sliced through the window shortly after 2 this morning and waked me up. Its beam was as piercing as a flashlight out of the southwestern sky ... three days shy of a full moon:
"Wake up! Wake up! Get crackin'! Everything is bright and assured ... See how bright everything is?! How bright ... just like me!!! Pretty kool, hunh?!"
Had the moonlight been drinking before it stopped off at my house and whooped into my eyes?
It was a silly question. Light does not imbibe, but more important, it does not consort with "before" and "after." It may be juvenile in other ways, but that is not one of them. It is just "BOOMMOON!" and there is the beginning and end of it ... a "beginning" and "end" that make about as much sense to moonlight as "before" and "after."
How did the moon get so bright? I wonder if it woke me up so that then, in the tailings of the night, it could pass the baton -- go home and sleep and await my rowdy and rollicking visits.