We are old souls.
We don’t have children.
The Earth is changing.
God bless,
it will wipe us all away.
We’ve had many children before.
They will live elsewhere.
Somewhere else
in the Stars.
Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
Tag: space travel
Crystal,
let us forget the consequences,
crystal,
let us leave the planet.
Although our settings were incorrect,
crystal somehow propelled us
into the outer orbits of stars,
by Penthius and Glaxxian,
where one can see oneself
in the mirror between dimensions.
And rocks and dust fell outside the window
as
we headed towards that point in Space
to where we did not know we were going.
Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
With the astronaut herself
I ran up to her funeral.
At her funeral was the telling of the cliffs above Mars
and the planets around Centauri.
Her husband and children were there weeping
and
the Nation
looked on
through video channels and viewing devices.
Politicians and bureaucrats spoke about space air
and referenced the “distant cliffs” she’d walked above,
the “distant stars” she’d seen,
the t-shirts she wore,
and even the fluorescent green rain she farmed crops underneath.
When we walked up
they turned around amazed and looked up in shock.
Stricken with sweat and a pale white face,
someone spoke up and said,
“Holy Lazarus! It’s you! Captain Marsha Pinsky!
It’s you!”
“It is me indeed, Graymont.
I have returned home, Colonel Graymont.
Was this what you were expecting?”
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
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