Arriving Mystified
  Pamela Mosher

You must stand stoic and unblinking
– if exhausted – before the prospect of

decades of regular movement away from
the dusty blue, the pale blue beginning dot,

the shaft of light that holds it all a memory,
the familiar place and the way it fades

to nothing in the presence of that great goal,
that humbling moment of

arriving mystified in the heliosheath,
before entering the staccato of deep space.

Past Issues Contact and Submissions About The Steel Chisel Author Profiles