The curvature of the earth

The curvature of the earth

Brings up the horizon

Lifting the middle

Separating top from bottom

Like a belt

Holding up a pair of jeans

Without which they would

Fall down below the knee

With no gravitational restraint

We would all

Resemble a bag of jellied Eels

Distant islands

Always appear higher

The further away they are

Until they disappear

Beneath the rim

Headlands poke out

Into the variegated hues

Of greens and blues

A cheeky finger

A floating spur

A dividing line

Between earth and sky

Nothing is ever truly flat

Everything is a variation

From the norm

No matter how it may appear

The Earth is a sphere

The edge of the world

Is a metaphor

Just like a rainbow

It never truly ends

There is no treasure

To be had

The world is revolving

We are always

Standing at the very top

Even as we tread

On the bottom rung

We look ahead

Around and about

Circumnavigating

A personal perspective

A diorama panorama