We are sorry to go somewhere – a park? a fair? – we do not know
to share what we have come to know.
Apollo’s wheeled chair may not lead the sun you know;
your new moon may fume, stare back, and flare.
Our stars may be so distant the airfare is a complete unknown,
whatever the speed on a jump-drive dare.
Can we tap across a rare dimensional fold we do not know?
Does that count as telecomm software?
How would we fare elasticized in a space-time we don’t know?
Aged less with memories threadbare?
Butterflies from a chrysalis, choking for air we do not know –
creatives, spared a nightmare?
Shall we be driven far from our home to who knows where,
on a journey flirting with despair.
Enough plastic could do it, if not heart-rending warfare we know.
Beware of what we do not know!
Signing off, dear reader, wearing a face with joyful tears 😂
though I wail like a wounded deer.