I’m studying crystals,
on a day so cold,
the earth around me cracks,
glittering gems burst through.
In winter, the lattice glows blue,
gleaming through its smaller brethren snowflakes
until the landscape looks like
a dead giant’s cheeks.
In spring, flat faces
beam turquoise,
then summer burns red,
mirrors the Arulian sun and moon,
while Fall pales
into a weathered orange,
gives the appearance
of a coffee stain on a tablecloth.
On Arulia, the planet at my feet
absorbs its surrounds,
pays them back in various hues.
I chip off a little
take it back to the ship
for further tests.
But my sample’s plain and colorless
out of its environment.
On a far-flung planet,
I’ve never witness the like of this.
Yet, in a sanitized lab,
I see it all the time.