{        
                        site_name: 'Poetry 180',         
                        subscribe_url:'/share/sites/Bapu4ruC/poetry.php'      
                    }

This poem just tries to capture a moment in time.

This Moment

Eavan Boland

A neighbourhood.
At dusk.

Things are getting ready
to happen
out of sight.

Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.

But not yet.

One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.

A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
this moment.

Stars rise.
Moths flutter.
Apples sweeten in the dark.

from In a Time of Violence, 1994
W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, NY