Pivetti's Poetry, Haiku and Poesy: Prose 3
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ship, the HMS Explorer, was an ugly duckling, covered in pock
and sprit to convey warp field generation. She was a sight
but space worthy, bringing us safely to our alien shore.
We were the first to land on this planet, rich in oxygen,
nitrogen, hydrocarbons and metals.
First mate, Mr. Lurie, approached, "watch yer step cap'n, thar's mean pits o' goo and sharp whiskers about. By gum, if I didn't get scritched right through me left boot."
Well, that was it for sterile environmental integrity!
A shout reverberated from behind Lurie, "egad, the pots burlin' sur."
We ran to the site and found an oily pool roiling. Our sensors indicated life was flourishing in that pit. In fact, it seemed to be evolving at an incredible rate.
"Mr. Lurie, use that useless boot in your hand to scoop up some of this stuff for later analysis and make ready to shove off."
I followed the crew onboard and I watched the ramp come up as I swung Lurie's dripping boot inboard. Below I heard a voice and espied a rough looking biped through the closing hatch. I could swear I heard it say with a lilt, "seems like an odd vessel for a specimen."
Copyright © 2019 by Joe Pivetti