THE UNBEARABLE SHEERNESS OF BEING… ECLIPSED

As a matter of fact, it’s all dark…

Hot night did not fall today
For this is mediocre England
Where cloud cover is assured
And a tepid gloom drapes around
Like old ladies’ net curtains falling
Laced with condensation and regret

But the river lacks eyes and simply knows
That the murking lurking moon is distracted by its astral dalliance for a time
And just for a moment its great waters may dance with a different partner.

For these few short hours it wears the
Shoes of Acheron waltzing the mud
From shifting islands of the dead
Giddy in the arms of Cocytos
Making a macabre chorus line of the sleeping.

And soon enough the dance is over
The river, Medway once again, flows
The way the moon bids it should
Both having remembered themselves
Straightening their clothing as they go back about their days.

It is back to business dress on The Delta.
The moon made a pass at a star and moved on.
The river played dress up and danced with the fallen
Till it heard the sound of gravity calling.
And came back to wrap its arms about the living.