Eclipse II

The earth shows her face to the moon.

Murderers are exposed

in light’s false astronomy of longing.

Lovers bare the silver oceans of themselves.

History, growing red in our shadow,

is written on that blood round pupil.

Take my hand.

You can see the moon rising

with our lives on it

and we are surrounded

by murder in the west

and rumors of war in the south.

The east’s old history repeats itself

and there are reports of guns in the north.

Take my hand.

This river beside us is singing.

It is saying, Yes

to our touching of hands,

this uprising of arms

around one another,

the hearts beating on this hemisphere

and that.

Yes, the moonlight of ourselves.

What roaring along the river.

What fire, the moon traveling.

What singing.

And there are more rivers than this.