By Jen Hunt
Eclipse, 08.21.17
Predicted long ago
We mapped arcs of totality
Watched radar for coming clouds
Still not knowing
Until hours prior
Which way the clouds would blow
We reserved lodging en route
To triple mark-ups
Rates still not steep enough to dodge
Fire alarms at 1:00 am, false or true
Which of us went back for mother’s wedding ring?
Which, the eclipse glasses?
The next day we who do not gamble
Found ourselves in a brief shanty-town
Of Totality or Bust-ers
Descended on the parking lot
Of a Kentucky racetrack
It was ninety degrees and August-moist
We could swoon and miss the show
We handed sample-sized sunscreens
To mothers of dimple-armed infants
And drank ice water
Were your shades in the Amazon recall?
The gathered buzz
Risks of nicks
Slim but real--
Arcs burning backs of eyeballs forever--
God bless the Menominee library giveaway
For our spares
We watched our watches
Our phones
Or the sky above
We set blankets
And we waited
Until the moon and sun
Crossed
To gasps and claps
Twilight settling all around the edges—
In our eardrums!
On our tongues!
For a sliver of time
We glimpsed the solar mane
For a sliver of time
We knew sun without threat of blindness or burn
For a sliver
The air chilled
Our skin pimpled
We were unshadowed and
Returned to our cars
The drive home seemed to stretch
All the way to the moon
As satellite maps led us
And rows of semis into single-lane
Cornfield traffic jams
Still
We bought the commemorative T-shirt online
And reached home
Before we learned our cards had been hacked
At the gas station
And all the ice had melted
In our cooler
* * *
Easter, Ever
Predicted long ago
For a sliver of time
The sun and moon
Cross
For a sliver of time
The stone rolls away
For a sliver
Dawn flutters all around the edges—
In our eardrums!
On our tongues!