|
At night,
in the darkness
of my suburban bedroom,
an alien spaceship
of the very small kind,
flew a course so close
around the dome
of my head
it burned
a curve
in my imagination.
At
school
no-one showed
the slightest interest.
Finding
no
improvement
in my homework,
old Hargreaves,
who has navigated
bombers
over burning cities,
patiently explained
the impossibility
of space flight.
And gave me
a detention.
|
