By Jill Koren

On our way back from the compost heap tonight,
I showed Esphyr the moon.
"Hi," she said, and waved.
"Touch," she said, and reached.
We both reached.
And reached.
When it became clear to her
that she couldn't quite reach it,
she said, "Get."
So of course I plucked it
out of the sky
and handed the moon
to my fifteen-month-old daughter.
"Cheers," she said, and clinked
her empty compost container
against mine.