Desert Eclipse

I’ve seen a few but that one scared me. The way the clouds moved across it, I thought the moon was going to fall from the sky. And didn’t it fly down close one time, inside out and angry, perch over there on that cliff like it wanted to talk? Not like a woman might want to talk. I had the feeling it was looking for something, or someone, like in the old days maybe the people living here were used to it, knew what to say, or had some music it liked. I’d never seen this canyon in light like that, silver and red, these walls razored bright then going liquid like they might slide away beneath the river again, the cedars and the pinons ready to lie down like the dinosaurs under the next wave of rock. Oh yes, I would have fed it anything it asked for. Hogs and goats, peaches, wine, the horses. Instead, I fell asleep, an old lady. When I awoke the moon was a she again, full-faced and radiant, seated on a stone throne and draped in a robe of white feathers. Somewhere, I  know, virgins died for that.