Round and round this planet twirls
Without a sound in frantic orbit desperate
To flee the horrid flaming Sun in run
To find itself each January
Back where it had begun.
Each year, each twitch of time, can appear
Appareled in white snow, clean to be besmirched
Again by fear that this might be the final one
Wherein this most eternally furious beast
Would toss its angers to the sky in dumb profusion
To initiate that final thunderous conclusion.
The clusters of stars entertain these days of longest night
Lit in celebrations of glowing galaxies and glints on Christmas trees
To defy this current fragility of a future ballet balanced on one toe,
Poised in hope to dance on crystal wishes for, perhaps, a few years
More for this gifted planet to restore its loveliness and delight.
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