Epistle to Perseverance

Perseverance, lonely ether-walker,
Deimos-dodger, all good wishes go
with you for landing safely. You’re a talker—
that’s your job, as everybody knows:
Phobos-postcards sent by radio,
starsong notes and double-moonbeam chatter.
Touchdown is the only word that matters
(one that I’d expect to hear in bars
with football on TV). Dear Earth-daughter,
sing to me the sound of wind on Mars.

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