Occultation And Conjunction
Our dance was like the firefly's with night,
sowing the black fields of plush eclipse
with frail and sulfurous intermittent light;
or like the dotted waltz of Moon and Mars
spaced ringing in the void on the ellipse,
made to shudder close and rebound far
to the heavy metal strings of sun's guitar.
So close were we, so paired where gravity slips,
to earthbound eyes it seemed we sometimes touched.
Yet one of us was always unconjunct,
occluded and deluded in the rushed
ambition of a self-rule lost to us
for in that moonlit field of anthracite,
what struts like a planet is really a satellite.
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Photography © Daryl Edelstein