Amulet

The moon has lost its man,
its rabbit, its glow.
Without light
we lose our way
wander
trip over curbs
fingers of roots.

Some say a higher power
guides us. We are held
by the same hand
that touched Adam.

I prefer to have faith
in the small fluorescent patch
on a child’s glove
put there by loving parents,
protection against
disappearance.