First and Last
First and Last
Oh Laika my dear,
You were closer to the stars than we could ever dream,
A feat unparalleled; to fly above us
You deserved to rest your weary head upon the clouds.
You were closer to the stars than we could ever dream,
You deserved to see them,
You deserved to rest your weary head upon the clouds
And to float back down to your home.
You deserved to see them,
To chase the blue marble with your tail wagging,
And to float back down to your home
Into the arms of your family.
To chase the blue marble with your tail wagging,
To be given food instead of begging for it
To fall into the arms of your family.
Your time was cut short too soon.
To have kept your life instead of begging for it.
If you cry into the lonely air, with no one to hear, have you cried at all?
Your time was cut short too soon,
Oh Thylacine my dear,
When you cry into the lonely air, with no one to hear, did you cry at all?
Do your joints creak and nails bleed?
Thylacine my dear,
How long did you scratch at the concrete?
Do your joints creak and nails bleed
As you search for your kin?
How long did you scratch at the concrete
Before you succumbed to the cold?
As you mourned for your kin,
For how long did you grieve your children
Before you welcomed the cold?
At least now you can rest.
For how long have you grieved your children?
A mother is always worth less than a martyr.
At least now you can rest,
Free from alabaster greed.
A martyr is always worth more than a mother;
A feat that should never be reached.
Notes
Notes
For context, Laika was a stray dog taken by scientists and became one of the first animals in space, she died in 1957 from overheating in the spacecraft. The last Thylacine was an unnamed, older female who died in 1936 from overexposure to the weather after her zoo keeper forgot to bring her inside for the night. Both Laika and the Thylacine died alone, after being trapped by people that were supposed to care for them. I still tear up whenever I think about them for too long and because of that, this poem is dedicated to their memory. May their next lives be longer and kinder.
I chose the pantoum form because I was inspired by the repetition of the villanelle form and wanted to find other forms that had a similar scheme. Someday soon I might write about Félicette as well.
Below are some notes about this piece, including the thoughts and external inspirations that occurred during its creation.
Bear in mind, this is simply what I was thinking of when I wrote these poems and what they mean to me. If you interpreted them differently, that does not diminish how you felt as the reader nor the correctness/incorrectness of what you were thinking. Poetry is subjective, and so is being alive.
“Alabaster” is another way of saying white.
Sources:
