One of my favorite poets, Billy Collins, from his book "Picnic, Lightning," available in paperback in your local store. Support your favorite poets. Buy one of their books today.
Just beyond the flower garden at the end of the lawn
the curvature of the earth begins,
sloping down from there
over the length of the country
and the smooth surface of the Pacific
before it continues across the convex rice fields of Asia
and, rising, inclines over europe
and the bulging, boat-dotted waters of the
finally reaching the other side of the house
where it comes up behind a yellow grove of forsythia
near a dilapidated picnic table,
then passes unerringly under the spot
where I am standing, hands in my pockets,
feet planted firmly on the ground.