Thursday, 16 July 2015

A poem of the earth

No matter how far her kind were away
She could let them know her joys and fears.
‘This parasite so long benign is spreading,
Malignant, poisoning life on my skin.
I am afraid!’
They replied in time, though time had no meaning.
‘We know others like this parasite of yours –
It self destructs, soon.’
Happy, she danced away round the sun
Far enough to be cool, close enough to be warm.


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