THE EYES OF THE PILOT

	The breath of many worlds
	sifting through her blood,
	a wealth of alien images
	overflowing the faceted orbs
	of her mind's projection,
	she shapes unlikely geometries
	of spatial condensation
	and leaps unerringly
	on the template of the stars.

	Here she is alone in the dark
	and stretched very thin,
	four thousand tons of steel
	and flesh trailing behind,
	patterned and at one
	with the universal birth
	of stellar excitation.

	Here the Doppler fractions,
	and each line of thought
	which clicks smoothly
	in the breach of acceleration,
	instantly threads
	the shifting parameters
	of force and inclination.

	Always the light returns
	like a relentless assassin,
	the attenuated atoms assemble
	and she unclips the sensors
	to breathe again:  her thought
	once more only thought,
	her eyes, blue cognizance
	fixed in transient space,
	reflect her destination.

		- Bruce Boston

Find out more about
Bruce Boston's writings via
The Locus Databases



Information about
Bruce Boston's book of poems

Cold Tomorrows

is available at:

Gothic Press
4998 Perkins Road
Baton Rouge, LA 7080



All rights to this poem belong to its author.

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