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Matthew J. Spireng
Matthew J. Spireng
Mowing the Lawn During a Solar Eclipse
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Not total here, so I wasn’t sure exactly when the moon would take its biggest bite from the sun. And with high clouds, any lessening of light
might be a false sign. But as I passed beneath the big maple on the riding mower I saw on the ground where small patches of light shone
through the leaves and branches countless crescent moons—partial eclipse? I’d no protective glasses, so I couldn’t check
when I emerged from beneath the tree, but the signs seemed certain. Later, when I passed again beneath the big maple
to return the mower to the barn and saw no crescent shapes on the ground, I was sure I’d witnessed what I dared not see.
Autumn
“… a west wind lifted the wet leaves from the wet ground.” –“Isis Unveiled,” Edward Hirsch
It’s a powerful wind lifts the wet leaves from the wet ground, heavy as they are, waiting to sleep through the end of autumn and all of winter, when, still wet with
snowmelt and the first spring rains, not even the strongest wind could lift them, matted together, wedded to the prospect of rot and rebirth. But for now, in the low light
of autumn, though glistening with moisture from a late afternoon squall, copper-colored, yellow and dull red, they are still light enough to rise up when a west wind blows through,
though they are sluggish and slow and do not go far and soon lie back down on the ground.
Matthew J. Spireng
A Minor Theory of Antiquities
Consider this about ancient Egypt: that those tiny carved or molded forms that seem so plentiful in museums were actually children’s toys. This occurred to me today as I remembered digging in the flower garden and finding in the soil a toy soldier several inches down. Even with the dirt clinging to its creases, I recognized the plastic form as a toy I’d had forty-odd years ago and, though I couldn’t recall losing it, must have lost. Had it lain there for thousands of years before being discovered, it would now be meticulously cleaned, given a catalog number and placed behind glass—or whatever they’ll use in future museums—with thousands of similar forms dug up and kept.
