Eclipsed

We have not seen the sun—
it went away sometime after summer,
between a lazy dusk
and a dawn that never came.

Is it wandering?
Will it return with no reaction,
slipping into a space still left
between the stars?
Will it be altered by its travel,
shaded by another galaxy’s dust,
emitting new colors
that we cannot perceive?

Or should we have said out good-byes
that long ago evening,
mourning the lengthened shadows
as the last warmth
seeped into our skin?
Is it lost, with no way to return,
or has it found another home,
other planets to hold in grateful spin?

We long to see the sun—
it went away sometime after summer.
We raise our faces to the sky,
but feel only an endless rain.