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Eclipse
Nichole Denise Massa

The moon drips down into

the flowers summer gray

and owls squawk

and crows howl

into the moon they see

the blood red ashes of

angels committing suicide amongst

devils getting lost in nothing

forgetting their places in the world

falling towards the blackness

that shines light into souls

Woe is me?! You're mistaken. Woe is He!

He who forgets the wild ones

stomping through those flowers

summer gray eating bits of stars

and swallowing the dust after

crushing fates and destiny

while mermaids giggle the rhymes

men need to forget the

blackened blood of marching soldiers

who drip up to the moon