They say you wake up with the strangest feeling—
they say the sky will darken like the evening
does just before the night, the sunray’s weaving
will be blocked by the moon’s inherent reeling
across the blue, and birds instead of pealing
in morning song might sink into a ceiling
of trees, confused, tuck in one feathered wing
and then another, until the moon stays flying
and they again begin to sing.
Americans will gather outside, staring
at skies, the world will soften in its lease
of light and dark, flowers will close and soon
after open, this earth is consistent in baring
its miracles; we owe it gratitude and peace
as we stand in the shadow of the moon.