Royal blue freshly mascaraed lashes
pressed against dark glasses:
a five dollar solar eclipse.
Can I look through yours?
asks the man with the angry pitbull terrier
I rest my eyes on the glittering sea.
Sorry about the dog. He kicks it.
It growls at every passing cyclist.
The sky is a lazy blue and the moon glides slowly past the sun.
Bloody hell, it’s good, he says and staggers backwards
Thanks for the look!
Grasping the dog’s skin he freewheels off to an art class.
Last time I saw a total eclipse was 1999.
The lights came on along the promenade
and the birds began to roost.
Here, the sky is already brightening
and people and cameras gather
for some prince and his consort.
At the national museum,
on the other side of the harbour,
I see the painting for the first time:
“Angels Herald New Beginnings.”
Outside sweepers sweep the waterfront clean
and a police boat trawls the water’s edge.