Gloom hung at the windows,
Dulling the bright prospect
Of a clear March morning.
Yet this was a deception,
For the moon was heaving, crawling
A dark path,
Eclipsing and blackening
A blinking sun, so appalled,
That its crescent, moon-like aspect,
Quite indignantly scrawled
A mere pallid, helpless warning…
The latest eclipse, just about pictured through high cloud in Solihull...