The Wonders Of My Hand

There is one time I remember
More than any of the others
When one of the old folk came up to me
Dressed in a cloak numbering in years more
Than these eyes of mine have ever seen
“Have you been to that planet there?” he asked me
And pointed on the viewscreen, a short distance away
A small mark on the glass, a mere speck of dust
Against the galactic wall that lay behind.
He took my arm and pulled me closer to that screen
And made me stare long and hard into the little dot
And he described it with intense passion
Talking of waters blue, skies blue, eyes blue
Of forests green, grass green, skin green
Of blood red
Of rubble grey
There stands an ancient statue, he told me
A woman dressed in ancient robes
An ancient light in her hand
And her ancient skin rusted away