This is to let you know I’m newly funemployed.
I’ve grown weary of the restless noise
of earth, so I plan to gadabout the universe
in search of alternatives to humanoids.
Perhaps I’ll terraform an asteroid
and confirm the latest scientific claims
it contains quintillions in gold.
I’ll appoint myself its CEO
and send you a prospectus once
I’ve penciled out investment strategies.
Let’s forget the echoes
of my thirtieth year
for there’s refuge
in the night and the moon.
Moonlit night
where imagination stretches starward.
Moonlit night
where my name falls off like an autumn leaf.
Moonlit night
where I’m a sapling attune to winter wind.
Moonlit night
where my past hibernates, ant-sized.
M. Stone is a bookworm, birdwatcher, and stargazer who writes poetry and fiction while living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in SOFTBLOW, Calamus Journal, Amaryllis, and numerous other print and online journals. Green Bank Tucked within a Quiet Zone spanning thousands of square miles, the gargantuan telescope lifts its shallow […]
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