Looking at the Moon with Both Hands

Somewhere, right now, a twelve-
year-old boy enters a black
Ford driven by a stranger.

He will never be found
by the police

but sold into slavery
in Iraq,
he will buy his freedom
and marry
an American tourist.

There is, somewhere, a man
with a photo album
with Polaroids
of hundreds
of missing children.

He thinks, someday,
he may find one.

Two stray dogs
chase a tin tuna can
down a littered street.

Huddled in a doorway
two preteen girls
embrace for warmth
and comfort.

A black Ford
cruises the neighborhood
crushes litter
under its wheels.

About the poet, Robert Beveridge: November 2018 marked Robert Beveridge's thirtieth anniversary as a publishing poet. When not writing, he makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Medium Chill, San Pedro River Review, and South Broadway Ghost Society, among others.