the skies cleared; we lifted our chins to the moon

This afternoon, after what seemed a week of rain (and before what might be rain still), the skies cleared.  There was wet heat in the air, and the rivers and streams were still swollen and sore.  But by the time I took a walk, dinner time, say, the moon was bright and near.

Everyone was out.  We'd all been locked in, hurricaned, stormed.  I saw friends I had not seen all summer long, two little girls from my church out on scooters, a couple I will call the McC's, whose love for each other is warming.  Friends walked by, rode by, drove by, and it was like we were all in awe of the clearing together.

Not long ago I was sure I would leave this neighborhood.  I was imagining the freedom of escaping some pressures.  But what would I miss, and who, if I could not walk down these streets?  Where would the moon be, when I finally got around to lifting my own chin?