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
$15.00Price
Laura Grace Weldon works as a book editor, leads writing workshops, and serves as Braided Way editor. She is the author of four books and was Ohio’s 2019 Poet of the Year.
