Getting There
by Shirley Kaufman

We go. Simply because 
it's there for us to go to. Walk
on the surface, having to raise dust.
Where we never were. And say
We did it. Finding excuses.

We need to own them.
Crusts of other worlds. Carrying
flags and chocolates. Comforts of home.

Whatever density we pass through,
pulsing and odd, we stake 
our claim to leaving
our garbage, giving names

In our own language. 
Nothing can stop us now 

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