Odonian
Dove Swung Overhead
By
Toyb Ben Uilliam
Tell me of the next world. Tell it to me true. The world that is to come, the world that is and could be. Give it to me, while I lay here.
I'll tell it to you true. As best as I can. While you lay locked out in the cold. Hush and listen. Up on our moon is another world. She is harsh but habitable. They don't want it down here, just her minerals and her wealth. They fear us and tomorrow we all go. We will build a roof to stand and never travel again.
I'll tell it to you true. As best as I can. I'll tell it as I was told, while you lay fitfully in bed. In the next world everything will be as it was. The baby in the cradle and the rock in the field. They will be moved just a touch here or there. Featherweights each but shifting to and fro. Only the Moshiach can gather them all up, and make you a featherbed.
I'll tell it to you true. As best as I can. Whispered ear to ear to your ear, while we lay together in rest. The contract was ratified. Every spaceport a closed shop with hiring hall. The moon will be free and the Moshiach can tarry, we won't be locked out again. Not to flee or tame earth away from Earth. I will pluck my feather and you'll pluck yours.
Toyb ben Uilliam (they/them) is a botanist and IWW union organizer from the American Northeast. Their work has appeared in Discretionary Love and is upcoming in Rulerless.
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