the night of day
Solar eclipse, 21 June 2001, Zambia 

The early afternoon light begins to bleed with gold
the trees murmur and hum in rooted response
and puzzle my bones and skin

I put my eclipse specs on
and look directly at the winter sun
and see against its steady orb the first lovebite of the moon

between the warmth of your tents
you make me laugh so much
I leave you for the sacred circle
(in your company I don’t trust myself not to
giggle my way through the whole heavenly show)

I climb the hill and sit upon the medicine wheel’s peopled rim
and breathe the silence down into my belly
as daylight begins to drain from all around

perplexed by the sudden brevity of the day
a gang of birds
races over our heads for home

a million scattered flowers shrug
and close

and as the hungry moon
finally locks on to her lover’s distant mass
accelerating to a blackened disc
circumferenced by conjugal flame
the clocks in our bodies
at last lay down their hands
and the soldiers in our minds
at last lay down their arms
and
we stare up at the stretched fabric of time and space
and are met only by love’s kind diffusion