For the Mid-Autumn, or Moon, Festival My Ford Explorer would ascend no higher: Stuck half-way up that driveway's first steep hill. 'Twas a December night so cold and dire, The truck, that old machine, had lost its will. Not I, I sprang right up and looked about, Fit spikes upon my boots to aid my climb Along the path where rain had frozen stout. My spikes, a nice thought, broke off in no time. It wasn't all bad, the moon lit up my way; It left just enough purple bluish softness So that I knew that I would never stray, Though I couldn't see my feet in the darkness. With baby steps, my freezing fate unsure, I had to laugh: what moonlit adventure! Evan Mantyk is an English teacher living in New York. Featured Image: “View of Dresden at Full Moon” by Johan Christian Dahl (1788 – 1857).