Tuesday, February 26, 2019
022619c
It is Big Autumn,
we move out from between the warm glows
of our two suns,
circling Alpha, we approach Hundred-Year Winter,
earthly vegetation dies,
natives encyst,
that leaves only we poor humans
and our preserved provisions,
last time this happened,
legend has it,
only a few survived,
now, we draw lots:
dinner versus diner.
Labels:
alien,
binary star,
cannibalism,
colony,
poem,
science fiction,
sf,
winter
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