Eclipse of the Moon by Mary Susanah Robbins - HTML preview

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The morning fills me as a running river is filled with sunbeams


or a room, white curtains blowing, the busyness of

motes in light,

and the light is warm, and the motes swarm, never

leaving the pathway.

My body is so awake it dreams in the sunshine.

Remorseless, no darkness.


I will go out and down the river of streets in the


changed to a form, a block of blue and black,

dreaming colors into the room

where the light is white, and the buildings move

on a wave, never leaving

their wakefulness in dreams. These streets will

become remorse,


my sorrow. I will be young and free, floating on

the wave of coming and leaving,

those rooms lapped with my gay tears will cluster

in blocks of blue light,

sunlight, a crowd of pathways and strong, quivering


lapped with my darkness, awake. I will touch every

sensation awake.


The day will be floating and free, and I will be

lost in the river

of dark rooms and bright skies, brilliant and still,

never ceasing, absorbing

my ecstasy of sorrow and light; or, pointed,

scenting, awake, my body

loses color, gains form, mourning this living



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