The sun eclipsed above my head
it turned dark with rings so red
and as the moon crossed, sailed and sled
the earth below burnt up and bled.

Bled tears of ire and tears that wed
tears of dire and tears of dread.

The sun eclipsed above my head
when I laid alone in bed
and as I watched the past go by
I saw new light spark in the sky.

I looked above then rose and cried
I felt new hope ignite inside
it flapped and fluttered like wings of doves
and brought new breeze of joy and love.
©Yakira Shimoni Fulks Art and Poetry
June 12, 2021 | OC, California

That Was Then | Crumbling Corona