Tonya Eberhard
untouched by
dark or cloud,
it is stark in
adornment,
austere in
its judgment.
a glowing orb,
rising omniscient.
keen in its
vigil,
ancient as a
Greek oracle.
in its silence,
truth suspends.
ask it,
look harder.
in its egg white,
ashen stare,
a demon and
a god appear.
year after year,
here, here,
an ask of what
else it sees.
the next tomorrow
hangs low.
one day it will
have a golden iris,
a thousand ways
to shut.
for now,
the moon
holds steadfast—
alone.
***
Tonya Eberhard’s most recent work has appeared in Glassworks magazine, THAT Literary Review, and Thirty West Publishing House. She is a 2019 Pushcart Prize nominee.