August 27, 2017The Year of the Eclipse
The moon was so quiet, we hardly
noticed the sun’s absence. Gradually,
the land went dark, pasture by steaming
pasture. One could step outside
and everything would seem normal—
the hedged lawns, traffic lights
still blinking as they should under a sky
we never assumed to be permanent.
But one by one the candles burned out,
city grids flickered in the mist, until all
that was left of love was the idea of love
behind the curtain of sudden nightfall,
shadow draped over the earth as if over
a casket. Then the closing of the lid.
from Poets Respond