There was a full lunar eclipse last night.
I missed it. All her rutilance in view
just one craned neck from where I slept, immersed
in caffeinated dreaming of my own;
I did not see the moon. I did not see
the shadow fall across her face, did not
see the livid, angry blush grow dark
and fume. A world entire stepped in between
her and the light, and me upon that world,
a vanishingly small part of that world
but on it nonetheless. Such privilege
to dream contented, unaware that she
the luminous had darkened, to assume
that she, withal, would mind the daily tides.

1. 
   Lesley 2007 08 28 at 6:33:39 pm

   I tried to stay awake for it but couldn’t keep the lids open.  Never mind; a Chris Clarke short essay/poem is worth a thousand pictures.

2. 
   Hank Fox 2007 08 28 at 9:43:44 pm

   I intended to get up and watch it, even to dress and drive to a distant field, in order to set up my camera and take pictures of its ruddy glow.

   But ... the ferrety spark of my Youthful Enthusiasm was overruled by the sleepy, farting behemoth of my Age.

3. 
   Rob G 2007 08 29 at 2:33:43 am

   I was up early as usual, but unaware of the eclipse until I read Hank’s comment in the last post, just in time. Thanks Hank! Had an excellent few of the shadow’s progress from my balcony, until this stupid planet’s rotation and the stupid tree across the road conspired to block my view (at about 3/4 obscured).

   Interesting, the idea of the moon as female. It seems to run through most Western cultures, but I was fascinated to learn that my ancestors (Latvians) were an exception. To them, the sun was female, and the personification of constancy, while the fickle, mischievous moon was male.