I remember a summer’s day watching an eclipse through pinhole cameras.

Stood next to the tree in the garden, and the holes in the leaves

cast a thousand shadows of a sun swallowed by the moon.

Recreated on the chipped concrete of the back yard,

a perfect curve as sphere interrupted sphere,

a sight repeated through imperfect circles.

And in the gloom it’s impossible not to marvel

at how small we are.

At how easily we’re all cast under the same shade.

But that day a thousand tiny leaves made a thousand tiny replicas

of an inevitable cosmic phenomenon,

and they did it by accident.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: