A Gray Veil: Eclipse, Total,
Lunar
I have been able to hear a shadow,
And even perceived by ear
The passage of a cloud across
The sun . . .
Mary
Joe Salter
Alternating
Currents
Behind. And the pines rising
High and higher still
Up the incline to the only clearing
Descending into the goose pond.
The moon is in
Eclipse. She is falling
while
A gray veil is being drawn
Across her face, the way
A drape is drawn across the dead, soft
Hovering, almost not touching.
What's beneath it gone.
Or the appearance of gone.
But not
Some magician’s trick. Simply
Shadow and the agreement
Among all the bodies that come
Between her and the full
Simplicity of her face.
It will be another hour of her
Muted illumination. The
drawn
Cloth is being
Drawn yet. Before
it’s done
She’ll have set
Below the tree line,
Below the mountain
Shy if you’d like, coy if you’d
Rather, the cantilevered
Agreement already calibrated,
Anciently, when she was
Grit in the mouth of this galaxy
Nacre and ooze moving
Like sibling tongues: the hurt
Of wound and beauty
Shaped and continuously
Lathed: gouged, parted,
Skewed, and polished.
