exploration
by Madeline Torrez
in the years of swing & sinatra
nobody told the wives
that the astronauts could die
but what with flight testing
& the wars, the wives knew
more than they wished to know
of how bravery & curiosity
are a dangerous mix,
how the mind likes to reach
out past the clouds,
stroke angel's wings & come
crashing back to the shore
in foam & smoke & bits of metal;
the wives, too, have tasted
the air of the ionosphere,
have had their lungs wrap
themselves around their heart
as the module plummets
back into saltwater spray,
the women, too, have learned
to fly with wings of their own,
& watched the earth shrink
under the grinding shake
of jet propulsion & gravity's
slipping grasp,
the women, too, have been fitted for
lunar grey gloves & gold visors,
have practiced the worst
& the best, time & time again,
they, too, have spun, jumped,
fallen, & glided. they, too,
stand beside armstrong and glenn
in booster orange and jumpsuit blue,
the women, too, are tasting
the bitter & bold of bravery
& curiosity, steaming &
untainted like black coffee
in the afternoon, & the women,
too, are learning the thrill
of exploration.
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