My toddler son picked up a toy Star yesterday.
And said it was a Moon.
“It’s a Star,” I corrected him calmly and succinctly,
as mothers do with their small children
who are learning to talk.
“No, it’s a Moon.” He insisted,
all two years of life, standing tall.
“Okay,” I laughed.
“It’s your Moon.”
this small boy
with my own brown eyes
his father’s cherub curls
is my Moon.
With 5 points and a center
to hold me inside.