![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_6xVbBjFYv_d-0Qyo5onLV38nMGWGNr3cBaEnmlfM8eL0LTi8DzzvE1va2vfv5ndbm9zvKSynNzNIQ1EWzXh5YLdmvsn7V3sLJBc5enJEN8gRTrFTl_5DJ0SEMF1n-B6TWzU5E1NPCk8/s320/GARDEN_OCT__30%252C2011_012.jpg)
Light is energy.
It has no identity
Until it runs life.
After which it
Continues amid
Stars, defined
By its speed,
Pausing only in
Gardens --yours,
Ours or some
Planet-- where
There is need.
In this slow
Combustion of all
Life, light is
Everyone fueling
A single seed.
This lovely poem's image brought me back to the first time I visited England, summer of 1967, when farthings were no long in use but someone gave me one because I wondered what had become of them. So I looked up the title of your poem just for fun and found out that a penny-farthing describes a type of bicycle with a large front wheel and a much smaller rear wheel, thus the lovely image by Norma!
ReplyDeleteThanks Will. I've always liked the term, penny-farthing. Careful to include the "h"!
ReplyDeleteAnd how far a single seed may go.
ReplyDelete