What an amazing prediction. I was right;
We were right: the day spun back again.
Now this sunlight on skin predicts the night
Is about to gather shadows and begin again.
You know, as don’t we all, it’s obstruction,
That’s all, eclipse, the most ordinary sight,
That marvels us not in the slightest, that’s been
The thin wedge all our lives between us and light
That would burn us with unmerciful delight
If we didn’t create distance with our bit of sin,
Wickedness, the healthy deliverer of frights,
The garden’s flaming sword that keeps us in.
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