Lunacy
Poem - by Kim Whysall-Hammond
Refugees within dead rock under black velvet
we cower in sealed caverns, tunnels
watch our-weak boned children gracefully walk
while we bound clumsily like Buzz
Soon after landing, we altered
not only our bones unknitting in weak gravity
but ourselves, our souls
a howling of loneliness severed from the green
Outside, we do not look up
to see a marred scarred battered Earth
for fear it will overwhelm us
maybe one day, the children will look