Final Orbit
A poem
Alone inside a metal coffin,
I watch stars stream by the shuttle windows.
Weightless, drifting through endless vacuum,
no sound but my own slowed breath.
An eerie serenity before the coming firestorm.
Below, the blue gem planet beckons,
a haven amid endless night.
But there will be no return to its shores.
A melancholy acceptance
settles in my heart.
Small explosions begin rattling the bulkheads
as the ship plunges into denser atmosphere.
Flames bloom outside like
flowers on a grave site.
The viewport glows angry orange.
I think of home, of family awaiting my return
with cheers not tears.
Of promises made that will now go unkept,
of a future dissolving
like a comet in dawn’s light.
The ship shudders, the hull temperature rising.
Walls groan against forces
for which they were not built.
My vision fills with dancing sparks
and acrid smoke.
Sirens wail.
Over the radio,
a crackling farewell from Mission Control.
I close my eyes
as the shuttle begins its final fatal dive.
Peace comes, knowing I ride this vessel
to the same far horizon
where wait all those who dared greatly.
The fire consumes all.
