.

..

...

MacGuffin: the arbitrary goal in a quest narrative.

Barely awake from its long hibernation,

packed tight: with an ounce of Clyde,

the US flag, a postage stamp, and a quarter;

the space pod wings towards a dove-

colored dwarf at the edge

of a solar system

we call ours.

Jupiter’s slingshot gravity-assist

so very ooh and ah

only not the fireworks kind.

Transmissions at the speed of light,

translated into pictures our minds can read.

There’s the shadow of a whale we’ve met before, and

the glacial heart: luminous, disintegrating.

Iron tears down Pluto’s cheek

Why we people our

sky with ancient gods.

Pluto’s icy crust and

deep below, warmth

from an unknown source.

Cryovolcanoes spew

plumes of nearly-ice:

mountains, canyons,

the tiger stripes of Enceladus,

the inner sea of Pluto.

Warmth from an unknown source.

High above, a pack of moons,

spin and grin

at the frozen dwarf.

You could float or fall

in the chasms of Charon

for a very long time

if gravity let you.