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Poem Number 138

This poem just tries to capture a moment in time.

This Moment

Eavan Boland

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.


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).