The Hydrazine Pond
There is a pond surrounded by night sky petunias and white pentas
Bloom encircles the pool in specks of five-pointed stars and boysenberry, chiffon color cluster
This cloistered realm is beacon to butterflies, red admiral and cloudless sulphur
But deep in pool-pit waters, through which light bends in cerulean diamond angles
There sits a sunken spaceship, unidentified forgotten object, encased in terbium sheeting
Breathing in, the air smells of ammonia, omens of fire, and propulsion
Trickling water dribbling down from rock and precipice gently disturbs taught surface tension
Becoming part of the liquid sapphire spread that engulfs the great metal fallen beast
The beast and its saucer fallen from the
Beyond, the breach, the black expansive void above
The water is clear and crystalline, and softly shimmers in afternoon sun
But do not touch, this chemical can burn
This is not a pond meant for swimming, a leak upon impact and miscible solubility
Be alive with caution, but with wonder
The lungs are weak to smoke, airborne pathogens, and chemicals leaked from extraterrestrial
Boats and bodies and beams
This ship’s damaged Earth entrance shot smoke signals out through small chimneys
Broken brakes and water landing
But now,
The sky is blue and open and vast
Blue in every hue from slate to berry
Tomb blue and starlight blue
Blink slow and look close
Tender ghosts with worry lines float above the water
Buoyant ships or satellites like moons
These spirits tend to night sky petunias and white pentas
Both with the delicacy of making lace with bobbins and pillow and
Tracing paths through star systems
Beyond the edge of the atmosphere and oxygen and
The hydrazine pond
Bizarre, extrinsic, alien life,
The past, the future, and the parts to fix a sunken ship.
© Sabrynne Buchholz 2021
Originally appeared in Velvet Fields Unspoken anthology
