Sunday Poetry

Well, another dreary week is over. I am reasonably certain that the news tomorrow will be no better than it was today, George Bush will still be Emperor in Chief, and his minions will still be in place, rifling through our drawers and our wallets. People will still be dying in Iraq and Afghanistan. The press will still be considering the sex lives of potential candidates and harumphing at former candidates. And on top of it all, tomorrow will be Memorial Day, a holiday that honors those who have died in war, many of them needlessly.

Still, giving up at this point is not an option, so here's one poet's take:

The Eclipse

I stood out in the open cold
To see the essence of the eclipse
Which was its perfect darkness.

I stood in the cold on the porch
And could not think of anything so perfect
As mans hope of light in the face of darkness.


Richard Eberhart