Wednesday, September 10, 2008


Red, I remember,
red against the evening;
I watched the eclipsed moon
rise, standing at my grandparents'
picture window.

It was my first eclipse,
the one that made the impression.
I've carried it with me since,
along with my first migraine.
The two have somehow

combined in my memory,
the years creating a single experience
of the angry eye and the pain
in my six year old head.
Oh, I don't hate the moon

or anything like that
but I can't say I'm particularly
fond of red.

Stephen Brooke ©2008

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