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  Poems by E.W. Bonadio
Jupiter Calling
Drifting into orbit near Ganymede
A small craggy rock appears
Colors, soft blue and pale green
At times morphed to blood-orange
From sub-surface eruptions.
Signals now hurl through space
Bursts of cosmic telepathy
From watchers in the depths
Enticing inquisitive newcomers
To their ancient other-world.
On a journey of hope and dreams
Explorers wearily set down
With open hands in friendship
Extended to their willing hosts
In trade for celestial knowledge.
Sixty-three stellar bodies
Circle that great gaseous orb
But none with matter to spare
Or from DNA for one to care
So far from that source of life.
Jupiter is calling- calling
Sending out in steely earnest
To seed the next millennium
Prior to a most certain demise
On that third rock from the sun.
The Mountain Trail
Dark and rain sodden
The gray frozen clouds
Hang low in the hills
Leaving a lone maiden
Scurrying to reach shelter.
In haste she stumbles
By the mossy edge
Of a steep precipice
Her hands clinging in vain
To shallow grassy roots.
Down a rocky sluice
Onto an earthen floor
The young woman
Braces for the worst.
With no way to safety
And no hope of escape
She screams for help
But none dare come
Once day turns to dusk.
Soon it will awaken
For a nightly forage
Along the mountain trail
Seeking that strange elixir
To warm its cold heart.