Eclipse

By. Tara Elliott

Today, the sun will be blotted from the blue

& I will have a sonogram for the complex cyst hiding my left ovary.

This time will be different than when you, small as a sprout

were busy unfurling in my uterus. This time,

the tech will say nothing, her wand sailing over a sea of bloated belly,

her silence as unnerving as when your movement stopped,

and I feared you dead. I will find myself holding my breath, waiting

like I waited for you to flutter to life, like I wait now

for some small shadow to pierce the larger one,

for this moon to finish its darkening of the day.

Tara A. Elliott’s poems have appeared in TAOS Journal of International Poetry & Art, The American Journal of Poetry, Wildness, and Stirring among others. She is the founder and director of Salisbury, Maryland’s Poetry Week and co-chair of the Bay to Ocean Writers Conference. She was recently awarded a fellowship to the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts (VCCA). For more information, visit www.taraaelliott.com