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The Poetic Planet

by Mandy Doerr

I'm alone in this beautiful place.
Sniffing the bittersweet wind as it crosses my face.
Watching spectrums play in a crystal forest
And the saddened sea where no tear can be suppressed
While looking at its mournful beauty.
A perfect place to write poetry.
That's what he said when he left me here.
He didn't even ask me if I wanted to be on this sphere,
He called the Poetic Planet.

He walked up to me one day while I was writing.
He read over my shoulder, his face brightening.
"I can take you to a place where dreams are made.
Where everyday could take your breath away."
He almost dragged me on his ship
Before a murmuring word escaped my lips
And told me I would write the greatest poem ever.
He went to the controls, smiling, as if he were clever.
And left me on this strange planet.

He's right, it is a breathtaking place.
I could tell from the look on his face,
He thought for humanity he had done
A great favor, until he fell into the sun
That holds this planet in its orbit.
Now all that's left for me is to sit,
Wishing to be on my home sphere.
For only the wind moves here
On this poetic planet.


Copyright © 1998, Amanda D. Doerr