When We Get Home, You Say, I Will Google Elecro-Magnets
On the car ride back from Maitland,
Southland, from the windmill turn-off
until we hit Portsmouth Drive, Dunedin,
a two-hour trip, you wonder out loud
how small the amount
we can actually see of the full spectrum.
And again you express amazement
that space is full of nothing.
Try to figure out
the difference between AC and DC.
Question how long the sun
will last and how many satellites
are there now, up in the stratosphere?
All this theorising. This yen to understand.
I blame the full moon
as the lit-up 8.30 flight from Wellington
under heavy cloud, bumbles in
like a lost fire-fly above Momona Airport.
We drive on into the night.
The planet we are pinned to
turns to morning on the other side,
in Colombia where our son is,
still sleeping. I send a tweet
to another son in Japan, on a train
coming back from Osaka.
I tell him we are on the other side
of Milton. Full throttle, we travel,into dark rain, pell mell, believing
we know where we've been
and where we are headed.
Kay McKenzie Cooke