Photo by Taylor Smith on Unsplash

We gather on the patio, with a celebration picnic.
Scan the sky as time draws near, searching
for patches of clear sky, but clouds are grey and heavy.
Anticipation dwindles; it seems today’s event
will not be viewed.

But the clouds choose a moment to clear an opening.
At once there it is. We scramble to take turns,
and through Justin’s welding helmets
we see the partial sun, a choke-the-throat-sight crescent
as moon passes by.

Cloud cover soon returns, family goes about their day.
I prepare for the message of this gift, to be thankful.
But sensation holds me gripped by something stunning.
I’m feeling almost crushed, as though I’ve seen
something l am not supposed to see. There is no explanation
and I pack the gloom away.

The air is still, the quiet grows, seems to
overwhelm all sound. Traffic noise turns from pitched whine
to fade-away. Finches and hummingbirds return without squabbling
to the feeders. Then through this quiet comes the calm.
Whitethroat sparrow sweetly calls
from a distant tree.

September 2017