Watching the Eclipse

entry picture

Watching the Eclipse

Well it would scald our eyes -
so we hide behind shades
or replications in grimy puddles
or camera screens
and then we don’t really see
the moon creeping over the cold nothing
between us and the stars, 
scaled beyond belief or existence 

and silent

So we make a small trivial hole in a card
as a lens to capture a tiny scene
on another card
and see an illusion 
of how, only for a short time,
nothing stands between us and the nearest star
except this black round rock
which we, the only people, have visited. 
Can we believe this? Even as with drawn breath
we pause and tick off a few more moments
of our place in this time.

But the birds, our sparrows, lacking a head-clock,
that says the day was short, and that this is not the night,
go silent as space. 
Do they know that they have missed an eye-blink.
Do they tick away seconds of their shorter time.
Do they count this. Do they know time.
Are they so easily deceived.
Can they be - what do birds Know?

But We worry at our single cloudy thoughts
of parsecs and light-years and megaspace -
space without atoms, 
reaching through the unknown,
to a blank ‘Out There’, 
where silence does not think
where light alone passes –

 and even the light is lonely.

 

◄ When I am Rich

Coins in the Trunk ►

Comments

poemagraphic

Fri 25th Jan 2019 13:00

Alan you comment re. Prat made me spill my tea!

Poets can just make shit up... who cares if it's true or not as long as it's a good read.

This is exactly that.

Alan Don't take any notice of my comments btw. Cos. I'm a prat n all.

We could work together ;0)

Po

Profile image

Alan Travis Braddock

Thu 24th Jan 2019 18:22

Thanks Po & Sal. I wrote it at the time of a previous eclipse, which I managed to snap from our house, looking through a spruce tree in the neighbours garden. BUt I now realise that I was thinking.of an eclipse of the SUN, which does silence all the birds.... took me about four years to realise that! (Thinks.... prat!)

poemagraphic

Wed 23rd Jan 2019 16:17

The Black is calling

Now that Alan is a HOLE new ball game for our nearest and dearest

Po

Big Sal

Wed 23rd Jan 2019 16:13

Reading this was like watching Carl Sandberg watch 'The Twilight Zone' in IMAX.

Great imagery, Alan. The lines form a verbal form of sfumato equally well as they haze the differentiation between the actual and the perceived.

Two thumbs up.👍👍

(I love that last line too.)

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message