SPACE WALK

'You’ll be king of the universe', they told me.
'The whole world cheering you on'.
Honestly? I don’t hear them.

'They’ll be glued to the telly', they told me.
'The whole world watching you'.
Honestly? Why would they?

One space walk is much like another.
Why watch a silent picture when
snowdrops are appearing in the garden?

Fragrant 'Merlin' wears petticoats of clearest green;
long-necked 'Magnet', in virginal white,
waltzes to the slightest breeze.

Does anyone know my umbilical is cut,
that the mother ship ploughs on without me?
Are they laughing? I think it’s laughable.

'We are masters of the universe', they told me.
'Be a king! Write your name among the stars!'
Honestly? There’s no one here to read it.

This ‘king’ feels smaller than a molecule.
I can see the world that spawned me.
Will anyone miss me? I doubt it.

They’re wrapped up in troubles of their own.
Botrytis fungus, Narcissus fly;
will their snowdrop blooms survive?

SPACE WALK

My own snowdrops will be opening now,
whiter than a space suit; eternal.
I’ll dream of them until my air runs out.