
By SpaceX – Falcon Heavy Demo Mission, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=66235869
Missing, Presumed Lost
Floating behind me,
a sea of blue, an immense sphere
comprising all that I know,
adore and despise,
breathe and asphyxiate,
drink and drown.
Ahead, you glisten, in quiet peril
reflecting light, juxtaposed in endless black,
after reporting a problem, drifting away,
brave smile in your voice
unintelligible
at this growing distance.
“You’re too late,” you said,
while still in range,
the warmth in your voice
transcending the void,
inexplicably soothing
my chilly fingers
and frosty extremities.
“Oh shit,” I said,
profanely breaking protocol
as the aspect of you
slowly shrank to a point of light.
“I’m sorry,” I offered to the magnets
within the transmitter mic,
a vain effort to overrule
our physical plane.
“It’s ok,” you said tenderly,
reassuring neither of us,
us both ignoring the
depleting oxygen alarms.
“I’m on to my next waypoint.
We’ll have to rendezvous
at the next target window,”
you declare as if our time were not
fleeting, finite,
our fates fixed.
You disappeared beyond the thin blue line,
leaving me to contend with the enormity
of the pale blue light and
an hour of radio silence,
floating above our northern hemisphere,
tilting away, towards winter.
“You free?” your voice vibrated
into my anxious receiver
after a maddeningly long silence
as your glimmer emerged
from the far-side,
rising to rival Venus-glow
and moondust.
“Yes,” I replied quickly,
maneuvering towards a
rendezvous altitude.
“I’m listening. I’m here.”
Then everything went null,
no heat, no cold,
not even light or shadow or grey,
leaving us clasping onto nothing.
***
Shared at Poetry Pantry #496
Barry, what a remarkable and amazing poem. For me, it carries an existential message. SO wonderfully written and so lovely to read you today.
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Thank you, Sherry. I’m trying to write more, but life gets in the way. 😊
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“You’re too late” you said while still in range…I love the contradictions in this poem, it makes it so much more poignant. The connection is missed even when they are there. So many layers in this one!
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Thank you. Glad you liked it. 😊
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ground control to major dawson
ground control to major dawson
return to earth
repeat
return to earth
there’s a serious shortage of poets on said planet
can’t have them flitting around in space ships
when they could be sunbathing on a sandy beach
sipping mango daiquiris
conjuring up a new msaterpiece
hear that rustling behind you
that’s me in the palm tree
thought i’d surprise you:)
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You made me smile. Thank you. 😊
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Scifi or metaphor, I love it.
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Thank you. 😊
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This is incredibly raw and poignant! I have fresh tears in my eyes …❤️
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Thank you, Sanaa. Glad it resonated with you.
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“leaving me to contend with the enormity
of the pale blue light and
an hour of radio silence,”…
Oh the emotions that one hour must hold…
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