This Moment (Eavan Boland)

August 11, 2009

A neighborhood.
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.


One striking thing about this poem is the anonymity of its subjects, which gives it a certain universality. “This moment” could happen, is happening, anywhere, or everywhere. Our world with its ten thousand things is in constant flux, where even the rinds of fruit move in the dark, and yet dusk remembers the subtle magic of things about to happen, the almost-but-not-yets of life. These moments hum with greater force and clarity when we are young, no doubt. Called in from the day’s romp to the buttery window lights of the house, it’s as if, at last, the stars, the moths, the apples can let out their held breath and once again rise, flutter, sweeten.

A few years back Eavan Boland participated with great generosity in the Poets Q & A forum at, which is worth checking out if you have some time.

One Response to “This Moment (Eavan Boland)”

  1. Shannon Kelly said

    im doing mt leaving cert and a question that keeps coming up is > What words are particulary effictive in conveying atmosphere? and u cant ever answer it? can you help?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: