a roving mars
the only light
in an ink black
dismal night
though told we live
with wonders -
I have
doubts
squatting low
on the rocks
fearful as ever of
fire
flying machines
with red tails
like fishing lures
as unfathomable now
to our understanding
as in the days of icarus
even the stars
have abandoned us
-is rising our only aspiration?
how can we fall
with no light
to melt our wings
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