must spend billions to reach mars
a thirty-million-mile plummet
into a rocky red dead end
must stitch images to reveal
full panoramas of sand
to confirm with human eyes
that nothing is here
may permit but one fact
of holy science and math
what happened in past eons
was never about us humans
nor beings trapped inside the box
of their self-centric universe
will have to live
where the soil cannot poison
where the wind cannot sear
where the air does not kill
where the light is abundant
and the water is still rich
where the earth makes a place
for our feet
—
Wayne David Hubbard is an award-winning poet, a Pushcart Prize nominee, and author of two poetry collections on the subjects of home, science, and human experience. He is the Treasurer of the Poetry Society of Virginia with works appearing in various literary and trade journals. Born and raised near Newark, New Jersey, he lives in the Shenandoah Valley and works in aviation. waynedavidhubbard.com
