A Good Morning from the Post-Eclipse Light to the Place It Eats Its Noon

The stunning Eastern light on this morning after the eclipse saturated the Howard Hall Farm Balcony, and turned everything to gold laced with delicate gray shadows.

I am reminded of an old favorite poem:

"At North Farm

Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you,

At incredible speed, traveling day and night,

Through blizzards and desert heat, across torrents, through

narrow passes.

But will he know where to find you,

Recognize you when he sees you,

Give you the thing he has for you?

Hardly anything grows here,

Yet the granaries are bursting with meal,

The sacks of meal piled to the rafters.

The streams run with sweetness, fattening fish;

Birds darken the sky. Is it enough

That the dish of milk is set out at night,

That we think of him sometimes,

Sometimes and always, with mixed feelings?"

John Ashbery