Eclipse

I saw the eclipse and thought of you.

Or rather, I did not see it as they said

It can be much more dangerous to look

When the fullest glow seems obscured.

Of course, the alternative was no better.

The shadows shifting—slightest chill.

A pale imitation of a summer evening.

Then seeing the disappearance echo

Through the cracks in a shelf of leaves,

Or repeating in the one hundred holes

Of a next-door neighbour’s colander.

But if I found you in the eclipsing, well,

You were there in the sun’s waxing, too.

A longing borne from such brief absences,

A second’s appreciation, way past due.