The Cosmic Order

She looms, this body out of reach
Against a cloudless evening sky.
A moon, a beauty, half obscured.
Where does she go when she's
Not here? What would she like
If I could find the means to move
Across the void? It doesn't matter,
I suppose. I see her sun. She shines
For him. My guess is that she's
Blind to me, and should be.
I am earth.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 13 times
Written on 2011-04-08 at 14:39

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