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the humbling of a star
by Maria KintnerYou, Sir
are a ball of gas;
so tightly wound,
you command attention from every piece of
matter that surrounds you.
You keep their faces in the creases
of your hand.
A million years later,
I refuse to be duped by the particles
in the air, creating
your phantom twinkle
so long after you are gone.
My wishes are better spent
as prayers on the wind. 09/27/2007 Posted on 09/27/2007
Copyright © 2025 Maria Kintner
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Tony Whitaker on 09/27/07 at 07:15 AM Third stanza is my favorite and an interesting take on the sun, photons and us. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/28/07 at 04:40 PM A worthy reminder that nothing in the galaxy lasts forever...at least in a specific form. :o) |
| Posted by Genevieve Sturrock on 09/30/07 at 03:03 AM enjoyable read...though i must say that the first stanza says it all! :D |
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