Good Morning

The Writer, Vernon Wade

Vernon Wade is a poet, author and freelancer. He has been published in The Gorge Literary Journal, Dualsport Rider Magazine, Hack’d Magazine, The Sidecarist, ROB Magazine and The Hood River News.

The world fills him with wonder. When he looks at the sky he is lifted into flights of fancy, when he stares at the earth he is drawn beneath its surface. He is delighted to find the macrocosm and the microcosm equally mesmerizing.

3/3/26 40F (4.4C) 3:00 – 4:45 full moon eclipsed like a round, pink, salmon egg.

I slept through my alarm and almost missed the eclipse. It was a red ember when I got outside. Descending into the tops of the oaks, it went from a glowing red fingernail to a pulsing orb transitioning through orange and pink. There was just enough mist to make it fuzzy.

A neighbor walked by with a dog, just as the eclipse reached totality. They were all lit up with LED and glowsticks and their flashlight wavered and slashed through the trees.

The moon began to move out from the shadow, flaring into red crescent, first a sliver, then thickening and becoming brighter. The vapors coalesced into clouds, drawing a curtain on the performance just as the moon reclaimed its mantle of gleaming white light.

I came inside and, wrapped in a blanket, I dozed in the easy chair. My dreams were fanciful and tasted of hemp.