I picked sweet white grapes,

crunched a ripe yellow apple,

and stared heavenward

to watch the moon cross over the sun,

her pale face invisible in his white heat.

Yet still she put out his fire,

or most of it, for a few minutes of this day,

darkening earth and quieting the birds,

just as she has countless times over countless years

as people made sacrifice, built temples,

raised voices in song and fear,

watched the birds and the waters

for signs of great portent.

Sol’s chariot soon appeared once again,

as it always has,

as far back as we know,

and rode triumphant in the blue

while the moon, shy docile creature,

returned to daytime anonymity.

I was soaked with sweat,

watching the show in an open field,

eating my golden grapes and white apple flesh,

and over me washed the peace of knowing

that this too shall pass,

that life will go on and the moon and stars

and sun will continue on their paths,

just as they always have,

and I shall continue on mine

for such time as is allotted me,

and this is right, and good.



About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
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4 Responses to Eclipse

  1. Libby says:

    Wonderful poem. We missed it here in the UK – only partial and well hidden by cloud cover, also late evening when it was going dark anyway!

  2. jpinok3 says:

    I love your poem, Granny Su. I’m from WV and just now finding your blog, so I’m subscribing to both. Thanks for sharing.

    • grannysu says:

      Thank you Judy! And I am so glad you found my blogs. I am behind on both right now, hope to start catching up soon, as I get other project finished up.

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