Home Coming

space 1 wwf

As snow rests her third leg,
The sun colours the white mask over red, clear crystal glasses;
Roaming the highways each vehicle heads towards the mountains of fresh alps and crisp air,
Thin lines of column enclose the tracks.

Earthy blue sheets of reflection cover half the sky,
Skeleton robots hold the wires to power the city like silent guardians, their presence hidden by their transparent frame;
Red and grey checked lego boxes emerge, as to monopoly red sheds and wooden fences line the journey.

Roughly crafted stone lift the foundations in place,
Mini grey craters spotted here and there;
Signs of construction, yet there are none,
Dashes of fern green embed the scene.

Like wings on a building,
Rubber wheels one on top of another;
We are heading for the sky,
Oslo only 256 miles.

Turning, turning, turning,
The loop seems never ending;
Red flags on metal handles wave departure,
A royal horse passes.

Entering a suspension bridge,
The North Star rests back into space;
Rushing with yellow, black, Elon’s cars are arriving,
In fine formation -one after the other.

Galaxy, SpaceX -insanity – wonders the wasp,
Waking up to Scandic and 9 pronged lamps;
Eon lights turned up, the sun feeding the engines,
A sunny day to journey temporarily.

Information for tourists and visitors,
Cardboard trees and alien light caps;
Jackson waits for the call to board,
Storing supplies by Shell north easterly, concrete cranes and logistics centre wait for take off.

‘Roger, Roger’, 1 more mile to go,
No more views in plane sight, ready to taxi;
Polar bears start to gather sensing the blocks,
Pure frozen ice walls and human departure.

Final checks on Titan, clearance on Eurozone,
The arrow goes white then blue;
Our first space hotel launch,
Black star dust rumbles, shaking off the snow.

North – we go, to another city,
No turning back – the polls begin;
3-2-1 and up!
Like ducks in a pond, the formation starts,
Locked in, seas of cars sit starring.

After moments of silence,
We hear his voice – a mumble of ‘in orbit’;
Relieved, the green tracks removed,

Welcome to Space Gant, any village will do.



(Written Feb 2017)

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Published by ArtofLiving2080

NewSpace Legal Futurist. Strategist. Speaker. Poet. Writer.

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