Space Race

Space Race

The lobster’s claws hold the moon tight
but we won’t give up our rocketships
or life on mars, so we plunge
deep into the water—
fan our fingers
and make a play
for the shimmering plate—
for that reflected lunar dream—
that stretches from the horizon
to the shore. We stare into the lobster’s eyes
cold, dead things that seem to sigh and say,
“Let me go home.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: