(Poem 308 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Once every few million
years or so, space
likes to be silly and play
her version of Mother-
may-I with the stars
and planets, laughing
until she’s out of breath
and needs a millennium
to get herself right again.
@Home Studio – 308th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Space Playing photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 