Monday, September 3, 2018

Dimming of the Sun (Day 593)

The sun went dark today,
and not a soul noticed.
A filmy black veil drifted,
unseen, over careful autumn 
light—gold as honey, and 
drowsy as midsummer. 
No one remarked on 
the quiet shadows, 
fluttering like prayer flags 
in an oven-hot breeze. 
No one squinted into 
the afternoon’s flat glare 
to discern the source 
of treeless shade. 
Nor did anyone pause 
to gaze upon a sunless field 
beneath the cloudless sky.  
Only I, it seems, was trusted 
with this secret, was blessed 
with this knowledge and, 
like a Hollywood hero, 
determined not to cause 
a deadly panic in the streets, 
I chose to remain quiet, 
to serve as a silent witness to 
the dimming of the sun, while, 
around me, holiday-makers 
played on, blissfully, perhaps 
intentionally, unaware.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

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