The closest I will ever be
to the moon is on this plane

over Charlotte, returning
from my cousin’s wedding

in Huntsville, Alabama.
Face pressed against

the window I overlook
the wing where light

reflects off wing– a
certain curved angle

makes two moons.
Earlier, the sunset

was rust. This morning,
we had brunch

at The Broken
Egg, my distant family

sat across the
table from me,

the length
of a Filipino flag,

the closest
we will ever be.

(originally published in The Round, Spring 2025)