Shadow’s Omen
To the Moon in Eclipse
Moon,
when the shadow eats you,
the air turns iron.
The rivers still.
Birds fall silent mid-flight,
their wings struck dumb.
The old ones said a dragon swallowed you,
that wolves had their victory.
But I know it is more—
it is a wound opened in the sky,
a door flung wide
between what was
and what waits.
I write from beneath your fading glow.
The trees groan,
their roots clutching the earth
as if to hold it steady.
I want to cry out,
but my voice cannot rise where yours is swallowed.
When you return,
you are altered.
And so am I.
About the Creator
Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.
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