Perseids
We lie on the grass for hours, watch
whisper-fast meteor storms sweep past
some tinged blue or green,
a few leaving vapor trails
like wavery ghost bridges.We stop pointing, stop speaking,
feel gravity's sturdy embrace
hold us against Earth's skin.
Sense space not "up there" at all
but what we're in.It's hard to stand, to walk, after
merging with ground and sky.
Once we wobble our way indoors, light
obliterates night's dark intelligence,
switches us back into what we seem to be.
Perseids by Laura Grace Weldon | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Se
$20.00Price
