Cabo. Before light.
I walked out with the phone.
The moon was four percent.
A rind. A clipping. Almost gone.
I took the picture anyway.
The whole circle came back.
Gray and complete inside the bright edge.
Earth had been throwing sunlight back at it.
The part I called dark
was catching light from where I stood.
Jupiter held above it.
Then the sky went gray at the water line.
Boutwell Jones
Red Clay Gospel
