Geopoetry
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The Carbon Vault
The skin of the Earth is the color of tar, Ridged, freshly healed like the seams of a scar. Through salt-spattered sky, a gray-winged gull sails; Steam gently rises, the island exhales.
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Habitat
People are sometimes startled By falcons perched on balconies, raccoons slinking through the park, Bluefish blitzing herring up the river, coyotes tracing train tracks. Isn’t it amazing, or isn’t it disturbing, we say, A creature’s daring foray into our hard-paved empire.
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Tiny Architects
Heaved upwards from your deep and watery grave, From the quiet murk onto a chaotic, brine-encrusted ship deck, You’re ever so carefully washed free from the mud, From all the rinsings of continents that settled out of the sea with you Like snow, softly entombing your remains.
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Finding Pluto
Far away, a beloved dot Arcs through cold and shrouded spaces, Not lonely, as we had once thought, But circled by more rocky faces:
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‘Faux pause’
New data support the conclusion The “hiatus” was mostly illusion…
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MESSENGER
Alien orbits you plied, While we vicariously spied A distant globe …
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An Earth Epic
I hear that the Archean Earth Spewed lava and was hot, (While much later, “Snowball Earth,” Apparently was not), Some have said that life sprung out of Spreading-ridge-type stew, Photosynthesis seems likely Based on carbon records, too.
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Buzz Kill
To feed our own species, we race, Wild herbage, corn rows replace…
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Abyssal Rhythm
Since the dawn of mankind, I imagine we’ve gazed In wonder and awe at the sky’s starry crown; More recently, we have been deeply amazed By the long-obscured, staggering view looking down To the depths of the sea, through crust, and below…
