DARK TRANSMISSION

Chris Stewart

after decades of dead feed
the mission stretches ahead of us

look out at Saturn
no one at home knows we’re alive

a voice of my grandmother reads
bus routes that ring suburbs

sees our house in the eye of one circuit
our aunt’s in a different loop

from a satellite town buses don’t venture
she exhales…

in this galaxy planets breath in circles
gravity holds the shape of their orbit

I hope the sun pulls us
home