A Remembrance of Things Imperfect Jupiter

Remembrance of Things Imperfect JUPITER

It is the middle
of a perfect August day.

I am running down the stairs,
quickly and excitedly,

We all want to see Jupiter.
It just landed in the centre
of the town square.

There it is,
lying on the smoothly polished
concrete surface,
looking like a shiny marble
I played with earlier today.

It exudes a natural confidence
and displays total control
that only the most powerful possess,
no matter where
life throws them.

A haughtiness of presidents
prime ministers, kings and queens
are strutting round it,
bestowing homage
upon the King of Kings.

Overcome with curiosity,
I try to take a closer look
but am pushed back
by a cordon of security men,
bodyguards and policemen
who have surrounded the planet
and are preventing anyone
from approaching it.

Obviously one needed
a special invitation
to gaze at Jupiter
and my name was not
on the guest list.

As my view
is blocked,
I turn around
in frustration and disgust
and leave,
feeling denigrated
by this turn of events.

Opal Writers Magazine Cover

Opal Writers Magazine


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