Columbia

It gets harder, every day,
to replay those moments
when your precious parts
hurtled earthward,
rattling our windows,
drawing us outside
to stand open-mouthed,
eyes raised to Heaven

where you, wounded White Dove,
cut the pre-dawn sky,
your left wing shattered
into splinters.

You fell from silence
through our furious air,
shedding shards
of minds and hearts,
of dreams fulfilled.

How close you came to home,
more like the Phoenix
in your final moments,
burning bright
with the tragedy
of courage.

Scott Speck
02/28/2003