shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Linda Conroy

Page 1 | 2 | 3

Solar Eclipse

So dark this August morning
I need to put a light on in the house
to read a page of poetry, to see the difference
this day brings. I'm unprepared. I have no glasses
good enough to view the thing, but can I stop myself
from one quick glance? I go out to the garden, to the corner
of the street. I won't look on that face I know must be half-covered
now, and yet I feel its weight like nothing I have known. It's cold.
I sense a deeper grade of shadow while the sun, a piece of it,
still shines, when the moon slides in between us and
the light. I dawdle just to be a part of it and pick
blackberries hanging, heavy, blacker in this
carnival of mystery, and eat, the sweet
juice running down my chin.