During the last eclipse,

I drove from the airport,
 sleepy, crossing highway lines,
aware of the dangers

my sleeping passengers
faced & the court fines
I would pay. In short,

I look to the right,
& I wake, thinking about you.
Most of the moon was black,

with white,
shaped like a diamond pear. Even to
myself I lack

a definitive answer as to why
I cannot decide which color I associate
with you: white, black, or neither.

I take a breather,
stopping for mocha to abate
my weary state. I try

to drive safely  again, hoping the eclipse 
will return you to my feelings &
thus I might understand why 

that moone alone does not evoke scripts
about you but I drive &
all at once I realize that I can fill 

that bill
& the miles roll by
while I drive.

 I thank you & that eclipse
for waking me, & I did not
sip one sip of mocha.