This poem came out of the February 2009 Poetry Fishbowl, sponsored by general donations. It was inspired by a prompt from
ellenmillion. I don't know if the structural spacing will survive blog posting, but I'll do my best.
Starblossom
The dayshift my lover came to me crying
because the last of the flowering plants
down in hydroponics had died, leaving only
the vat-grown leaves and proteins to feed us,
she said to me,
“What shall we do
for love-tokens now?”
I pressed her to my chest,
and turned her face to the forward screen
where the nebula blossomed in a dozen shades
of purple and pink, green and yellow, blue and gold,
and I said to her,
“Look, my dearest,
the stars are making love.”