Sunday, January 13, 2008

Zero Gravity

“in fourteen minutes, there will be weightlessness.”
you lay, nonplussed, upon your astro-turf,
drifting between sleep and laziness, and with a book
upon you nose.
the place was familiar—drab, with a hint of melancholy—
and you’d wished you’d not returned;
but there were you, and there was i, Not-Knowing-Why,
amidst-again those dead terrains and leafless boughs:
still slightly smelling springtime in the stalest
launchpad’s shuttle. (or was
that snow we sniffed? we asked)

“three. two. one.”
your eyes grew white with cold star-fire and
danced a sorrow’s jig, And—
sinking low beneath the night, the lifeless
twigs grew vaguely fainter, and, maybe,
night one wee mite nearer.
i longed to see you levitate, as ground-free as before,
so i looked now to your toes
and, brow-furrowed, seeking to ease you of your gravity,
glanced about myself to—Stunned—find
ceilings scraping me.
a laugh arose—more sad, more wise—
from in my flighted breast;
But, o best of Best:
for one once shiningsecond, thought i i saw, perhaps,
(or maybe only wished, as dreamers
do) your
feet, too,
forsake the

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