I dream of space and rocket ships,
rotation of the sun's ellipse,
and traveling to planet Mars,
a pit stop to more distant stars,
galactic dust and pulsar flips.
To view without the webcam clips,
from my own eyes, not microchips,
with reverie's binoculars,
I dream of space.
The cusps of vivid quasars' lips-
the last of macrocosmic trips
before awakened mental scars-
they shield me from this world of ours.
Although my reason comes to grips,
I dream of space
Jack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana.