Solstice sunrise turns the western ridge red as an altar. A brown creeper fishes in all the dark valleys of the walnut tree’s bark.
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Solstice sunrise turns the western ridge red as an altar. A brown creeper fishes in all the dark valleys of the walnut tree’s bark.
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Solstice
How do we know the brown creeper fishing
in the dark valleys of the walnut tree’s bark
could not tell this landscape
from the moon’s? Past midnight, we craned
our necks toward the heavens’ gathered dark
and saw the shadow-play of bodies
entering each other’s path: the brief
interruption and embrace of light
by dark and dark by light, the face
of one passing over the other when
they’re perfectly aligned. Then
without rancor, without remorse
the plumb line lifts– and it seems
the world is as it was before, though all
that has transpired has changed
even the color of the morning sky.
~ Luisa A. Igloria
12 21 2010
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Nice! Did you actually stay up to watch? It was almost completely clouded over here by 1:30, so I went to bed. Which wasn’t so bad, since it meant I got to see the sunrise, obviously.
I’m gonna have to leap-frog this over the two others in the queue and publish it today!
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Yes, we stayed up! Was freezing, though I suspect not nearly as much as in your neck of the woods.
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It was beautiful, even before the eclipse. I went out at one point and watched falling snow silhouetted by the moon, which was shining through a thin veil of cloud, a rainbow-tinted halo around it.