by Lawrence J. J. Leonard
When the sun broke through the clouds,
the heat shot through his bones.
He was walking away from her.
She told him to hurry up
and get to the launch zone and leave.
Time ticked on, helping her anger
The pain of regret began to slip on past.
Her I-did-not-mean-it apologies
came to him from her broken heart.
She admitted that he had been right, after all.
and tried to smooth things over
through the video phone.
He was already hurtling half a light year away
when they finally reconciled.
Not even sympathetic space pilot
will flip a u-turn in a shuttle
for star-crossed teenagers.
As he awoke in New Phoenix,
fresh from a 60 year-long suspended animation,
she was saying her prayers under Vermont stars.
She was thankful for the medication
that relegated her body aches to distant memories.
He opened his eyes and realized
he was only about three years older
for all that time spent in a stasis capsule.
She closed her 80-year old eyes having stared at
a photo of his smile for the last time.
Copyright © 1960-2019 Lawrence J. J. Leonard All rights reserved