Eclipse of the Moon by Mary Susanah Robbins - HTML preview

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The organ plays in a thousand arching churches


a thousand sons against their mothers' knees


sun gliding the paths wet with glittering snares;

the unfaithful rise from their beds to a rainy



Death walks the long paths. Under the leaves he is


from the children, only drawing an explicit trace

down their spines, and drying the veins in the


with sunlight that buries the dew in chords of



Let us run from this richness, death and children

and rains

breeding, decaying: green pollen and pale children.

Somewhere above the organ lone figures are shearing

the branches of trees with neat and darkening



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