August 19, 2010
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The Wonderer
The wonderer takes the ultimate road at night
When most birds except for whippoorwills and owls are silent
When the thornbush blooms its crimson shoots
And blackened roots of fire-falls are moist with salted dews
Of moonless star-lit seas
He has come from his tunnel of woods
Onto night-fields replete with explosions of brilliant flowerings
There is no purpose for this voyage other than the wonderer has reasoned
He is finally alone in this confetti-strewn galactic smear
Spread above in its celestial glory
He must not linger long gazing at this "fire which severs day from night"
As the greatest poet Master Will proclaimed
Because his journey is drawing to a close and he is bent
As the saw-grass sparkling with droplets of sea-mist is bent
His bones and fibers lacerated and detrite
He spies two fireballs slicing through Alpha-Centauri
And lies down on a saturated ledge to wait out the cosmic shower
His eyes close till they are pulsing slits timed to his heart
Those empyrian slashes up there are his epitaph
Written when this field was a sea of gas
Comments (2)
This tugs at my heart. The last two lines took my breath away.
This was such a fine piece of beautiful poetry. How elequent and poignant!
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