One Friday night back in 1982, I wrote this poem. My friend Robert and I had decided to take a walk from the West Hollywood apartment I shared with Mama up the hill to Tower Records on Sunset Boulevard. It was our favorite hang out place. 

“Let’s go,” I said in a merry voice as I put on my shoes, tied them, and headed out the front door into a lovely summer night with the temperature just right and a little breeze. The full moon lighting our way could not have been more beautiful.  

We climbed the big hill, breathing deeply, catching our breath, then with four more blocks to go, we saw the two Tower Records buildings. We had made it all the way. Since we didn’t want contemporary or pop that night, we went to the one with classical music. Smiling, enjoying the moment, we walked the final distance and through the door into a room filled with vinyl records and cassette tapes to browse. 

We stayed for well over an hour, then relished a walk down the block, taking in the beautiful gardens surrounding the homes we passed. Three quarters of the way down the street, I saw a snail sitting still and taking in the moon, just as we were.

My friend Robert said, “Why don’t you write a haiku about this?” 

I said, “All right.”  

And it was. 

Moon’s Glow

Bare silver branches
Alone under the moon’s glow
I see a snail…

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Original text ©2024 by Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved. Image by Mike Dillon (assumed based on copyright claims). CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons,