AARON SANDBERG

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

In Event of Space Disaster

I would never know if you
untucked an alternate take—
had no fear to have

a solace speech at hand—
made in case I botched the landing
or, having survived the getting there

and high on some half-drunk glory
to prove you were wrong,
go blind by the view,

come in hot on the return,
rear-up in the atmosphere,
catch flame at odd angle

though home becomes so close
on the approach I can see where
you stand near the launch pad

before I burn and bleed an apology
through the skin of your thin
but unforgiving air.