071318

The Wrong Foot

The biochemists said the native fruit

Weren’t poisonous, and they were healthy too

They tasted better than we’d ever had

We finished off the last of them before

Some aliens with woven baskets came

They looked upon denuded trees, then us

Juice quickly wiped from dripping chins and hands
The looks we got before they slipped away!

We headed for our ship; we saw black smoke

Ran then, and found our landing craft aflame

And nothing we could salvage from the fire

Before the mother ship could rescue us

A flight of spears flew from beneath the trees

Please tell my husband that I love--