Upon the Third Anniversary of the Space Shuttle Columbia Disaster

On February 1, 2003, the Space Shuttle Columbia, returning from its 28^th mission with seven crew members aboard, disintegrated. All on board were lost.

Below is the first republication of what I wrote and published on that melancholy day.

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Elegy for the Homeward-Bound

The river flows, and time flows, too:
mariners sail'd, th' pilots flew.
Stood she at dock, 'waiting his ship;
stories he'd tell of a hero's trip.
Night came, then day followed after:
Joy will be ours!—filled with laughter.

Day came again, no ship in sight;
where could he be?—anew, the night.
Awful the thought: No! Please God, no.
Th' ship's just late, this must be so.
Treasures, stories, he'll have for all!
Trav'ler so great, and ship so tall.

Many suns pass'd from East to West;
came not that ship; no hope for rest.
O! curse the sea and smite the sky:
claim'd they a prize for God on high.
Damn'd be our will, traveling far,
to distant land, to shimm'ring star.

Lonely Winter of life near end,
burden finish'd, duty to tend.
Abandon'd dock, the ancient port:
looked she again, a glance fair short.
"Goodbye, my love," soft whisper'd she.
"Safe be thy way on Heaven's sea."


Dark Wraith
1 February 2003
©2003