Dirt Farmer

He holds a chunk of meteorite
He found while he was plowing.
So foreign, this piece of vitrified rock
That burned through the atmosphere.
It got too close to the net of attraction.
The gravity of earth pulled it through,
Ablaze as it was falling,
And people must've wished on it,
Mistaking it for a star.

It's heavy, weighty for it's size.
It's face is smooth, metallic,
Beautiful, just like hers
In the shining light of day.
She too, exhibits a trace of alien,
Legal or illegal, he's not sure,
And it doesn't matter
For the family name forbids
Him to get too close and fall
Into her orbit or her into his.
He flings the rock away.

But if he had only known!
That 'rock' was worth over six hundred thousand,
More than enough to have purchased his freedom
From the family farm and the family name.
He could've wished on that fallen star, himself,
And maybe even gotten three wishes out of it.
Instead, he'll settle to be out standing in his field.

-jenn