Eclipse - Dustin Vado

It's so still,
Not even the breeze
Dares interrupt
Strange light washing
Over dried grass.

While birds
Squawk that things
Are changing,
The city still rushes
On the gray side
Of the hill.

Shadows
Bend the hue
On time's creatures
In a way only seen
By fallen empires.

Even the soul
Of the lichen
Curdles to green cheese...
The philosopher’s prism.

A crisis of shade
Pours down
The hill
Unnoticed
By distracted tires,
Then the light returns
To normal.

Though the beginning
Was as quiet
As the end,
And no sound
Could break the ringing
In my ears,

Today
The colors
Looked different.