Size / / /

High above the ocean,

awash in

the frail sun, laved by

black currents,

this island in the NASA

chain falls

about the world like a

metal stone

flung by human gods.

All for

now is calm. No one

needs mention

the hubris of this Icarian

assault upon

the firmament, or fear

that combers

of fire or tectonic forces

may eventually

shake apart or kindle the

bright toy,

causing it to founder. Below,

patient,

the blue earth musters

its tidal

beck, and waits.




Robert Borski works for a consortium of elves repairing shoes in Stevens Point, Wisconsin. You can read more of his work in our archives.
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