73 seconds seems so little
to shackle a country to its soil.
So little for a fraction
of a machine to freeze,
to thaw, to expand, to explode.
Barely a minute goes by,
|The Lightship by Atilla Hejja|
dreams made real while feeling
3 G's escaping Nature's
forces. The Challenger was caught,
for those few moments, by the
cold January morning, by the
cameras of the media, my the
minds of every dreamer.
This dreamer remembers,
being called away from a 4th grade class,
led to a tornado shelter, to a TV,
to the replays, tragic replays.
No catharsis from the endless
chorus of reporters
only questions of why?
How to explain the end of a dream, to
schools filled with students, to
witness a death not just of 7,
but of a minute part of each of us.
How to come home, staring at the news,
hour after hour, counting the seconds,
and feel the nation stop and take a breath
to find what it had lost.