The Newness of the Earth

The newness of the earth crackles like a log in the fire,
Like a cellophane wrapper,
Like a nuclear conflagration.
Radio towers stick up out of the earth
Like worried, frizzy hair,
The dawn rises with a tired, dusty yawn,
And the hills breathe the somnolent sleep
Of a hundred thousand dreams of earth and slow-flowing rivers of lava
Across mountain brains of massive thought.
Like Mexican jumping beans, our cars pop along their highways,
Our airplanes skitter through the atmosphere,
Our newspapers land upon our porches,
Are brought into the house, read and put out,
The day and night flicker,
Our babies grow up, become grandparents, are buried,
A pack of birds flits along the air currents,
A baby nurses from her mother.

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