Bones wouldn’t have put up with this.
His whizzy little scanner
Would have sought it out
Wherever it had boldly gone
And zapped it dead.
Jim would’ve been at a bit of a loss,
Seeing as how he’d rather come
To depend on me in Communications.
But he’d have smiled that wry
Confident smile of his:
‘You’ll be back at the desk soon enough, Ma’am’.
Only Spock would have really understood.
How time stretched and warped,
As heavy and impervious as a giant’s fan belt,
Bouncing smugly back when you try
To punch through it with your fists.
An eternal repeating loop, onwards to infinity.
Exhausting you with its familiarity and variation.
He wouldn’t even need a Mind Meld.
He’d just know.
But they weren’t on our space station last night.
‘Beam me up, Scottie…’.
This poem is going to take its place at the start of the collection as I discovered it in a bookcase recently. It was written as I reached the end of 6 months chemo after having breast cancer. Yes, horrible – but it must have worked though… The illustration came from a commiseration card sent by Isabel and Kevin.
Riverview Songs 