The waves lap around Outpost Europa
where thermal vents have melted the ice.
The sky is dominated by the swirling might
of the King of the Gods, a celestial gravitas.
I lie small and unnoticed, secured to a cot,
sleep elusive while gazing out the porthole.
Mother Earth is five hundred million miles away,
cacophonous, but all is quiet on Outpost Europa.
***


No comments:
Post a Comment