This poem just tries to capture a moment in time.
Things are getting ready
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
Apples sweeten in the dark.
from In a Time of Violence, 1994
W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, NY
Copyright 1994 by Eavan Boland.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced with permission (click for permissions information).