LUNAR ECLIPSE

When first I lower my body
hot water scalds my skin.

Once my glasses have fogged
I scuff my feet into stolen slippers

and wrench the glass door open.
The sky is pricked with lights

around the red alien moon.
Blink, but it doesn't change back.

The air bites me all over
dry and thin and still.

I drift into the heavens
like a Mylar balloon

murmuring a blessing
no one's ever said before.

This poem is a response to the weather prompt at readwritepoem. (In this revision the weather isn't a direct focus of the poem, but it was definitely a big part of the experience. That was a mighty cold night in these parts.) Other responses to that prompt are linked here.

On the eclipse front, a few links: Reb Shai Gluskin posted a photo series and a poem. And Dave put up a photo essay that's also pretty dazzling.

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