Eclipse, Dec. 21

binoculars, check. you’re out in some field,
with that far off interstate all night sound.
canada geese, squawked up on amphetamines,
are flying in military v’s over the mountains.

the night-white sky begins to dim,
and the man in the clouds starts his drinking.
guinness, black, he’s drowning the past,
and thinking of all the stupid shit that he’s done.

an hour time-lapsed, and the moon’s off his tree,
flush red, his head must be spinning.
my fault you abandoned you just left me to rot
and the sunlight is gone it’s just gone.

the sky got so dark, you can see all the stars
like the streets of some overhead city.
and you’re miles away, but we’re not apart
because i know that you’re watching this with me.