The sky is clear over the Sahara Desert
It seems I am leaving the planet forever
The bond between Earth and its inhabitants
must be defended like a holy relic
I used to have dreams when I was a kid
Like an infant in the womb of my spacecraft
The night before you went up – did you sleep?
the rustle of my muscles moving over each other
The Earth was absolutely round
I could hear the sound of pipes whining below me
moving further and further away from the ship
and you are yourself a satellite
Only in my soul is there something unquiet
Enhancing our pleasure in these shapes
Then, of course, the realisation hit me
I waved to her, she didn’t see me
(From astronauts’ translated comments accompanying space photographs in The Home Planet. Submitted by Winston Plowes)
Verbatim Poetry 