Eclipse

Two bodies momentarily 

Above and below each other: a temporary embrace. 

The pulse of a shadow: 

Once in a full life 

The empty beam from this dark torch 

Slides without thought over 

A paralysed planet. 

And it is just a point of view after all. 

A fourhundredth of the farness, 

One tiny coin of moon 

Quenches the furnace 

Vast and violent and we pause.

The illusion of a perfect fit is 

Something else. Infinitely beautiful 

And never to be seen again. 

Caught up in the geometry of 

Preserving the eclipse, the impossible 

Orbit spiralling through space and 

Returning home a hundred years away 

Is a dream only. But 

There is a path after all, a single 

Simple path where 

The permanent black of moonnight 

Blocks the bright sun’s boiling 

Storms forever.