We watched a full red moon rise from the back of the boat. An eclipse was promised for around 10:40, but it was slight and barely noticeable. What a relief to cast our eyes to the sky above instead of bending down toward our iPhone screens. Hours pass.
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THE LAMPS
Eight o'clock, no later,
You light the lamps,
The big one by the large window,
The small one on your desk.
They are not to see by -
It is still twilight out over the sand,
The scrub oaks and cranberries,
Even the small birds have settled
For sleep yet, out of reach
Of prowling foxes. No,
You light the lamps because
You are alone in your small house
And the wicks sputtering gold
Are like two visitors with good stories
They will tell slowly, in soft voices,
While the air outside turns quietyly
A grainy and luminous blue.
You wish it would never change -
But of course the darkness keeps
Its appointment. Each evening,
An inscrutable presence, it has the final word
Outside every door.
Mary Oliver, 12 Moons
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