Perspective


While we bicker
in our backyard
about
an unswept floor,
the spilled hair dye,
and more triflings
we won’t recall
beyond tonight,
a billion
billion stars
in stirring dust
are wishing upon us.
They plead for
riotous applause
for how
they’ve traveled
far and wide
to rhapsodize
a sky swirling awe.
That’s it. That’s all.
But
two rambunctious
fireflies
absorbed
in our own light,
we ignore
their appeal.
Perhaps
the last daylit
bird
or first nocturnal
frog
will pause
from their windings
down and up
to bow to
the dreaming galaxy –
or, at least,
offer it a nod.

By Carolyn Martin

First published in in VoiceCatcher: a journal of women’s voices & visions


Carolyn Martin is blissfully retired in Clackamas, Oregon, where she gardens, writes, and plays. Her poems have appeared in journals throughout the US and UK.

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