Election Section
Space Ship
On the way to the kitchen at midnight
To get a glass of water,
I pass the computer desk.
The green and red tiny lights, some round, some oblong, some bright
In the blackness
The refrigerator hums
For a moment—call it a nanu second—
I feel I am at the controls of a Star Trek like space ship
Hurtling through the universe on an unknown mission
I turn, feeling disoriented, to the window.
The streetlight casts a warm amber glow on the street below,
The dry leaves are moving about in the wind.
Porch lights are on in the neighbors’ bungalows.
I am still on planet Berkeley.