"Pale Blue Dot" - Zach Mitcham
“…the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.” — Carl Sagan
The world is speeding away from you,
like Apaches with your hair.
But their hair is beautiful forever,
and you've asked them to take yours
to see what they can do.
When you wake, the golden edges
of the blinds say, "come meet me."
You walk the long road in the sunny weather
of motorcycles and antique cars.
Your eyes fall on the beagle like rescue beams,
and he greets you with the crazed joy
of a lonesome boy found on a dingy
in deep water. You see your own heart
reflected back, an elaborate animal pantomime
where you're the subject. His eyes say,
“Don't you see, I'm doing you?”
This brings you to your knees to stroke his head.
And when the rain turns the yard to oatmeal,
the porch pumpkins lose their faces.
You scoop one up, and don't breathe for flies,
to carry it to the cows, but it falls apart
in your arms, your gift turned to orange earth goo all over you.
When the world speeds away on its horse,
you feel the gap as a tightening string in your hand
like a fish in the blue moving at high speed to break your line.
You have no reel, just a heart like a bow.