On Mars

I suspect it will be nice
On Mars
With its waterless rivers
and treeless hills

I gather butterflies won’t
fly over roses
Birds won’t chirp

There won’t be
guns or terrorists
No cross to bear
No church for prayer

What bliss!
Wars not waged nor battles won
Dog not chasing the cat
Nor cat the dog

There won’t be
A you and I
Maybe an us, who knows?

And earth will be
but a distant memory
A blue planet rising
and falling when sun
dims behind shadows


One thought on “On Mars

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