TRANSIT OF EARTH
From this lonely outpost,
I see a blue-green haze
Floating through a raging blaze,
Stirring my soul's ghost.
The color of your eyes
Staring past the vacuum sea,
Looking wistfully at me.
Burning in the sun's passion, hope dies.
I shiver in the cold.
My hands reach out to touch--
I didn't want to feel this much.
You disappear to nothing I can hold.
My frozen planet suits me well.
I long for Earth and wait till when
You pass across the sun again,
And I escape this icy hell.
SPACEMEN AND POETS
Can spacemen fall in love in space?
Can they kiss? Can they embrace?
Will love last long at speeds of light?
Can it survive an endless night?
Will poets ever walk on Mars,
And write to Earth from dying stars?
Will life be better, or be worse
As spacemen rhyme the universe?
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