Hour 6

Flat

 

Rose early from bed,

feet on the nice, warm, spongy floor.

Routinely crawled to the edge

to report my findings,

careful to avoid bubbles.

“Dark. Sizzling. Remains extremely hot. Unacceptable for exploration.”

Waved to my colleague on a nearby disc, shrugged.

Longed for companionship,

unable to cross the searing surface between us.

The earth moved, shifted, turned as

the spatula slipped beneath me.

I leaped to the opposite side. Safe.

Until the butter melted,

the sky rained syrup.

 

 

Sue Storts

09/02/2023