Upon Lunar Eclipse (Rep.) Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

Passing torch to the Sun
and skies metamorphosis
from silver black to gray,
mime dancers bleed in sage,
the shroud of a nascent oddity,
I ask what could this be
stroking my tired brain,
then-

streams, like core-spun thread
criss-crossing midnight eye's,
narrow crescents curve
ostensibly breaking silence,
when-

a shadowed crackling smile
across the atmosphere appears,
obscuring the absorbance of rich hues
from the Iris of my drifting eye,
levitating slowly, softly -
soft as Egyptian cotton-
on sheathes of charcoaled winds.
And, what be this I feel
stroking my nebulous brain,
where-

Shadows cover shadows,
umbra's pass penumbras
and consortiums of comets
migrate...like fireflies,
embering celestial skies,
producing beaconed lines
like surgical spotlight....
discharging symptoms and signs;
please, tell me someone what be this
stroking my hollow brain,

who-

paints silhouettes on rims of white,
passing o'er another days Sun?
And your eye's be not burned
from it's sockets by this,
upon Lunar Eclipse.




FjR-MMXV