An Eclipse of the Sun Is Predicted

Edna St. Vincent Millay

I never was on to go to war against the weather, against the bad conditions
Prevailing, though prevailing for a long time, the sullen spring,
The ugly summer grey and cold;
``Summer will bud''; I said; ``Autumn do the blossomings;
Winter curtail a year without fruitions;
I, starving a little, await the new bounty as of old.''

I have gone to war, I am at war, I am at grips
With that which threatens more than a cold summer;
I am at war with the shadow, at war with the sun's eclipse,
Total, and not for a minute, but for all my days.
Under that established twilight how could I raise
Beans and corn? I am at war with the black newcomer.