top of page

Buck Moon

A Poem

It’s a strong name for July’s full moon and how perfect, this one so close to our day of independence. Some don’t like to celebrate it anymore. I can’t quite understand it. Do we take for granted the lives we have that much? The freedoms and liberties we are gifted? Cause at the heart of it, that’s all it is— a celebration of the day we said WE ARE FREE. As every living being should be.

Just as it was given, it can be taken away. Not as quick as you might think, it slips in like a friend, this negligence of what matters. Nobody wonders what they did when their right to breathe is taken away, just who to blame or who to beg to give them the oxygen they need to live again.

Because of who I gave my life too, I can be free wherever, in chains or unfettered, but we celebrate loud for a reason, we explode the night with bright lights and color because freedom of the body is topped only by freedom of the soul.

We remember the brave bucks (and all the especially brave doe too) that gave us the freedom we have today, simply because it’s worth remembering.

Ellie Maureen



bottom of page