Wonder Swirl

Oh Maps, it’s not your fault
how people fight over you—
how they contest your lines—
your names!

Our planet is not
the color-quilted globe
of childhood.

Visible by spaceship
it’s a wonder-swirl
of water, wind, cloud, and land
gloriously undisputed.




A poem from a collection-in-process called Maps.

Joining those writing a poem a day during NaPoWriMo and National Poetry Writing Month.









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