Photograph by Jonny Lindner

The little ships fly off and disappear like the seeds of a dandelion head
carrying with them the wonder and dreams of the people left behind.
The stars hang overhead at night like the trapped seeds of another dandelion head
perhaps holding another people’s hope, also trapped in amber.

We watch one rocket after another disappear into the void, follow their progress
like the faithful in church, unable to do anything but hope
unable to help, or even close our eyes and just leave the room, forget. 
When a ship blows up or drops out of orbit or just disappears, 
there is no recovering from those dreams.

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Holly Day
Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press),  In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I'm in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).