poetry by j matthew waters

colossus looking skyward

they’re building a rocket ship in their backyard
(or so the rumor goes)
daily deliveries arriving like clockwork
garage door opening halfway
closing before anyone can get a glimpse inside

neighborhood children make human pyramid
(just over six feet tall)
top of the stack detailing observances
those below hurriedly taking notes
runners relaying tidbits to gossip hungry parents

final countdown should be starting any day
(or week or month or year)
it’s just a matter of precision timing
between earth and moon and mojo
and that perfect mixture of propulsion elements

september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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