I’ll be seeing you

Opportunity will no longer knock.
Opportunity will no longer
Respond to our knocks.
Nobody home. Go away please.

For 15 years, without a whimper,
She spoke when spoken to
And went where she was told,
Sat up straight and minded her business.

Dusted, frozen, gimpy,
Still she plodded along
The Martian ridges,
Our spy in the sky

One final dust storm,
And she’s had enough.
Want to see what’s
Beyond the next hill?

Come on up here your damn self.


Voyager 1 is expected to leave all solar influence behind, and slip into interstellar space soon, very soon. It will be the first man-made object to do so.

An inconsequential piece
Of jetsam
Floats miraculously out
From the sun

Out, out
So long, goodbye

We’ve heaved you gone
And yet you write back
Every day
As if you’d found work
Out there
Beyond the heliopause
Where strange bits of nothingness
Collide ceaselessly.

What do they make of you?
Too smooth, too rough?
Too many kinds of things
patched together
To be of any use to entropy?

I do hope
Things work out for you.