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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 taken
groomed to fly
chosen to die
high between stars
in a sealed soviet tin can
rocketing up and out
on a one way trip
in the name of science
necessary and disposable
so they said
so they did

She died alone
high above us
her tomb orbiting
for 162 days
before it decayed
burning up
with a fiery tail
vanishing
dust raining
into the Amazon
her forever home.

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