l. the cow
Another day passed
by on the boundless
crop field
dried by the
evening sun of summer.
Finally, I’ll be able to
grab a lick of
hefty sleep under the
image of constellations under a
July sky. I am
king of this land, I have been
living on this bountiful
meadow since
night’s first arrival,
over times of
peace and upheaval,
quench and fire,
rot and rebirth.
Standing beneath the master’s
triumph of stars of galaxies and
universes afar, I
vehemently gaze upon this
whimsical mosaic of
X’s and O’s,
yearning to be part of this
zenith of creation.
ll. the goat
Zions collide, sparks of neon
yellow and green,
xenon, hydrogen and helium soar in the
wind and weather of scorching stars. Though a
vibrant sight, no being like me could
undergo such a voyage
to a realm where I can
seamlessly integrate into. I cannot
Romp across the
quiet smoky hills of
Pluto, or graze upon the wide
open lava engorged plains of Venus.
Nor the labyrinth of
mysteries beneath the vast
lakes of Titan. I will never
know what a
jaunt beyond that
impassable fence, passed the bails of
hay, and to the final
gate. I’m far
from the true
edge, the edge of
darkness, of the
cosmos and the
Big Bang and
all.
William Gribbin is a Junior Literary Arts Major at Appomattox Regional Governor's School. He mainly writes poetry about the universe and silly people.