Adding to the Mix

Under a Tree during the Eclipse

Crescents, like God’s fingernails,
stack up side by side, spit out across
the sidewalk, our shoes, the grass.
Why the strong pull to look up
up through this darkening hour?

I would change nothing of this poem's meat but I would consider a title change.  The reference is clear today, but as time passes, the reader might expect a poem about the more common lunar eclipse.

Perhaps a more specific title?  Solar Eclipse Tree?

I was fortunate to be able to view totality beside a deserted sawmill pond 45 miles from Carbondale, IL.  I'm trying to write about this quote from my traveling companion, Mr. Science:  Eclipses always make me cry.

I like this, Todd.  I, too, stared at the sun's image
until someone said, "OH, look at the mottled patterns
on the ground."  He was a nine year old kid ...
I think the title is OK at least for the next seven years.
Dewell

Love the image of God's fingernails.
Like the s's   stack, spit, strong, . . . .
Well done.  I like it, as is.

Todd, you beast, you nailed it again.  If you were critiquing this poem for someone else you would probably say remove one  "up" or at least use a comma after the first.  But I won't.  I think the title is good to go.  Love it.

Dennis