A daughter holds her belly next to the row of lawn chairs.
A black rooftop tarp sticky from yesterday’s heat. Sounds of midday
cars. Air brakes hissing. A bird caws. The glow of a lemon-shaped lantern.

The mother calls the representative looking for an answer.
Phone slipping through her fingers. Ringing, ringing, beep: “Please hold”
Looping music in endless rotation.

All the rooftops have parties. Guests arrive milling
on dotted line pathways. Manicured nails offer eclipse glasses.

The boy tries grabbing mother’s phone. Fists holding too tight.
Body huddled inward. Warm tears. Adjusts his glasses.
He turns away. Looks beyond the rooftops.

The consoling mother holds the phone close to her ear.
A voice speaks in foreign tongues. A doctor’s schedule. Stop gap
measures. Tests upon tests. A reveler shouts “the totality has started.”

A new date crosses out an older date. Another gatekeeper.

A friend of a friend offers the boy glasses. The cardboard bends.
A seam tears. Paper and plastic held by evaporating glue.
Sudden cheers spin beneath bistro lights; wild hands in whoops and hollers.

A reveler sings. Euphoric drinks in red or blue cups.
People argue astronomy versus astrology. Dancing rituals
for the solar system. A girl’s dangling amulet chimes.

One foot moves forward. The daughter takes two steps back.
The boyfriend shuffles beside her.

the moon passing over the sun eclipses one future.
A chilled wind sweeps the back of necks.
All look to the dark sky.

We watch the unsuspecting.
Our hands hold each other.
Our faces tilt through broken glasses.