Steganographic Poem After a Haiku by Basho

From nine PM we waited, knowing it was not yet
time for the eclipse
to start.

Time hung heavy on our hands, heavy as
the unfortunately manifesting
clouds above.

Give way, cumulus, you’re opaque, obscure, at
rest or in motion,
to us

the intended observers of this celestial event, this
moon-veiling, we would-be
beholders.

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