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Stony rain of
Dust in orbit twirled
Down into a new
World, roaring, compressed
Under its own mass
Exploding back
In boulders --long
Low roil hissing steam,
Soil, oceans on
Tectonic plates.
I was not there but
Hear it from
My garden gate.
It was a slow climb
From debris to garden,
A long time and hard,
To planethood.
But now friends
Get in my yard
And that is good.
Whoever Dan is, this is a sweet commentary! I somehow feel I should know who he is, your poem has that kind of personal accolade!
ReplyDeleteDan is the friend whose recent picture I happened to have. He is the husband of Wendy who still adores you. Sometimes I find them in the garden.
ReplyDeleteGeorge and Norma your garden is a wonderland, green and lush and full of art and friends. May the new year bring you each blossom after blossom. Our friendship has grown into a beautiful rose that is forever fresh. Wendy and Dan
ReplyDeleteDear Wendy and Dan Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteThanks for your kind wishes! I can think of no compliment more humbly received or better deserved. Love,
Geo.