THE MOMENT
A neighbourhood.
At dusk.
Things are getting ready
to happen
out of sight.
Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.
But not yet.
One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.
A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
this moment.
Stars rise.
Moths flutter.
Apples sweeten in the dark.
-Eavan Boland
Gladsome Lights 
This is beautiful!
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Boland is one of my favorite poets; I’ve used her work a time or two on my blog. I wasn’t familiar with this one, but it’s so typically ‘her.’
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What a wonderful word capture of a precious moment in time.
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I loved it! It’s rather biblical, isn’t it? Which is the psalm that says, It is vain for you to rise before the light, to sit up late into the night; you who eat the bread of hard toil: for he is bountiful to his loved ones in sleep. (#127 Douay) A lot happens seemingly on its own, when we are not involved with it.
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Lovely!
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