My Sun

Each time I feel the drive kick in,
press me deep into my seat,
I watch the galaxy blur,
a vacuum folds over me,
obscuring my star,
my gorgeous light.

This nomadic life,
mining for diamonds
on Orion 7,
where the harsh light strips off skin,
desiccates flesh in minutes,
burns away life, entombs spirits
in deep, cavernous voids that glisten
with desperate hope,

or for gold on Djenne Minor
where blue light barely melts ice
on a good day,
where crystals form in still air,
or wherever the next job takes me –
leaves a void,
a lake of nothing that concentrates
with relentless certainty
until it becomes desolate;
all life evaporated.

I miss the sun,
out here among the stars
where gas burns blue,
burns red, orange,
burns with white fury,
yet never the same –
not like back on earth;
it’s just dead radiance.

About George Fripley
I am a writer who enjoys writing humour, satire, poetry and sometimes a bit of philosophy. I live in Perth, Western Australia and occasionally get a poem or article published. It's all good fun! I have two books available for unwary readers, Grudges, Rumours and Drama Queens- The Civil Servant's Manual (This contains all that anybody could ever want to know about why government runs so slowly) and More Gravy Please! - the Politician's Handbook. (available through Amazon). Real name Peter Tapsell...just started off writing under a pseudonym and kept going.

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