by Jane Richards
8:30
The moon shines pure,
--no ordinary moon, but perigee,
so close to earth it exhales past its boundaries--
glistens the snow,
cuts shadows in crisp lines,
brings clarity to a winter night.
9:46
The moon, smudged at its bottom edge,
--no ordinary smudge, like a passing cloud,
but a stain, a creeping disease over the white face--
lays a dirty cast on the snow,
smearing shadows--
gloom hovers.
10:16
The moon, a feeble frown of light
--nearly overcome with thickening shades,
red stain soaking through the grey--
turns snow into a dark shroud,
shadows into black holes--
the night broods in silence.
10:32
The moon gasps,
--aspirates a last flare of light--
shimmers snow,
recuts shadows
before all illumination dissolves.
10:40
The moon
--in total eclipse, a strange rust-colored beauty,
old blood swirling in murk--
abandons snow and shadows to eerie black--
the earth shoulders a heavy burden,
sinks into itself,
threads to its sun severed.
2 comments:
Wow. I love lunar eclipses and this one leaves me feeling heavy. Jane has such a way with imagery - imagination meets the moment of the eye. Glad I know the moon will re-emerge and return its reflected light to my heart.
This is very good work. I loved this poem descriptions.
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