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From thread of night the haven hung
In black despair, the wastes of time,
Suspended, an eternal ghost
that gambled life and lost.
No more the weary traveller's port,
Nor warmth of breast that whispered: "Home!"
Whilst eyes that glimpsed remembered scenes
Now only clutch at dreams.
Across the barren landscape lay
A frost where sparkled silver stars
The chilling smile of passive space,
Of gioconda grace.
Well, shall we search out Jonathan,
Compare the breadth of lips between
Two corpses? Now, as brothers one,
They share the joy they shunned.
composite by Stephen Alsford
adapting a NASA photograph of Ganymede by the Galileo spacecraft (2001),
and a NASA and STScI photograph of deep space.
|Created: November 17, 2014.||© Stephen Alsford|