Slip Stream Dreams....
By Michael James Tanner
Drive high between the seams,
They tighten as velocity pulls at the wings of
The sub-orbital dream-making machine.
Counting down, and folding back,
Fuel, pressure, and angle of glide attack.
Hands get heavy, suit constricts legs.
Eyes blur computer, dials;
Vocalize, “Two gees, Mach one,”
This, a memory, fades
As others measure centigrade,
Sound barrier breached, as the ionosphere breaks.
Alarms, klaxons, sound; hull integrity worrisome.
I am sorry, my Mother, Father;
I must go faster now.
Fear will not stop me.
My Heart is in my ears;
Sweat pours down, salting my eyes.
The ground calls to me, “Set condition two;”
The count renews.
Telemetry failures icing in my wake.
“I trained for this; die I might
But failure is not an option.”
My nerve is resolved.
She twists and tries to break
Free from my control;
If we separate now, we break together.
The roll begins as this bird on a wire
Climbs into the black place.
It was worth it; do not miss me.
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