And for anyone who missed it, let Roger McGough guide you toward other eclipses:
The hamburger flipped across the face of the bun
The frisbee winning the race against its own shadow
The cricket ball dropping for six in front of the church clock
On a golden plate, a host of communion wafers
The brown contact lens sliding across the blue iris
The palming of small change
Everyday eclipses.
Out of the frying pan, the tossed pancake orbits the Chinese lampshade
The water bucket echoing into the well
The black, snookering the cue ball against the green baize
The winning putt on the eighteenth
The tiddlywink twinking toward the tiddlycup
Everyday eclipses.
Neck and neck in the hot-air balloon race
Holding up her sign, the lollipop lady blots out the Belisha beacon
The foaming tankard thumped onto the beermat
The plug into the plughole
In the fruit bowl, the orange rolls in front of the peach
Every day eclipses another day.
Goodbye bald patch, Hello yarmulke
A sombrero tossed into the bullring
Leading the parade, the big bass drum, we hear cymbals but cannot see them
One eclipse eclipses another eclipse.
To the cold white face, the oxygen mask
But too late
One death eclipses another death.
The baby’s head, the mother’s breast
The open O of the mouth seeking the warm O of the nipple
One birth eclipses another birth
Everyday eclipses.
Roger McGough
