Marble

An iridescent opal orb
Rests calmly in my open hand.

I raise it up to light
And new colors refract.
I see fields of lilacs
And golden lilies.
Rotating it slowly
The hue transforms
Into verdant mosses
And scarlet daisies.

The marble rolls down
To my forefinger and thumb
Where a flick of the wrist
Sends the sphere spinning
Through chalk-drawn crosses
On the dry dusty dirt
Of our dying earth.