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Poem: 2017-11-03


It is National Novel Writing month – and well I don’t write Novels but I do try to write novel poetry. One a day for November!

Laika
Homeless
unwanted cur
she was trapped
groomed to fly
chosen to die
high between stars
in a sealed soviet tin
rocketing up and out
solo one way trip
in the name of science
necessary and disposable
so they said
so they did

so she died
all alone
high above
in her tomb
for 162 days
orbital decay
pulled her back
burning up
wagging
fiery tail
behind
vanishing
dust raining
into the Amazon.

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