EXPLORER

So, the moon launch launched of its’ own accord
and we followed, creating our own
chicken wire & papier-mâché replicas.
For a while we float, as made up as balloons, full of shut air and air sickness bags.
We love the whole idea of a backyard miracle,
that flight could somehow come from this.
But always, we end up with the end of the afternoon, us peering out at the burning spur beneath our window;
a tender strip of asphalt glowering with heat ripples,
a simple driveway waiting to be filled. Dad's home.