Mother May I . . .

Mother,
may I take the moon down
from that big dark sky
and cradle it in my arms
for just a little while?

The stars won't miss it, and I
can stroke its silvery surface
and rock it, as it does the tides.
I'll watch it as it changes, like
a shape shifter in my lap.

I will be really careful not to drop it.
I promise to hold it gently but firmly.
It will be safe in my arms, and I'll
sing it that lilting lullaby. . .
you know, the one you sang for me.

Mother, may I take the moon down?
Please. . .


Written for Saturday Centus and the prompt - Mother may I
(Exactly 100 words minus the prompt.)
Image by Susannah Bec