The shadow of the moon
will cross Mexico
at one thousand five hundred mph,
shoot up toward Niagara Falls,
at pretty near two thousand.
Millions will stand
craning heads skyward
enduring each other
in a close proximity
they would not otherwise
tolerate, spending money
they did not have
for a chance
at first hand geomancy,
subdued as the Mayans
as the moon makes
a diamond ring
of the sun.
They are wedded
but not forever,
our star sure
to become
Red Giant
petering to
tiny, White Dwarf,
bereft forever
of Snow White Moon.
Celia Turner is a Loveland published poet in Northern Colorado Writers and Columbine Poets annual anthologies,Poetry Potion and winner of the 2020 Denver Women’s Press Club Unknown Writer’s Contest. She regularly studies poetry, takes workshops and classes. The Grind online practice of a daily poem submitted to a random participating group each month has been a boon. Poetry for her is an ongoing intimate conversation she continues to have with those unmet but not unknown.