I don’t have to jump
out of airplanes.
This freefall through the cosmos
hasn’t landed me yet,
though I’ve crashed all the way
through other, more brittle planets.
I never tried to count
the moons or stars, didn’t care
when they disappeared—others always
came hitching along, burnt crisp
by comet tails, suffering shrapnel
when asteroids collide,
dropping extra-
terrestrial rocks in places
like Kansas,
metamorphic events ignored
for a shiny gold rush.
Pull the cord when the trees come back;
give me a gentle landing.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a subversive weirdo nerd witch who loves rocks. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction may have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
My words are mine. Suggest ai use and get eviscerated.
MA English literature, CofC
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Comments (4)
Really lovely. “Suffering shrapnel” and “brittle planets”… 🔥🫠
Beautiful poem that feels like freedom
Ah, this great. The entire poem is a gentle landing.
This is beautifully written 💖 The emotions come through so naturally