Pale Blue Dot

By Amelia, age 15

Valentines day 1990,
3.7 billion miles away from you and me,
Voyager 1 looked towards home one final time,
To be sent into space and never come home feels like a crime.

We received back just a black rectangle,
But if you tilt your head at a different angle,
You may see a small, single dot,
You might think it’s a mistake, but it’s not.

Since on that dot there is life,
On that dot is your parent, your child, your husband, your wife,
On that dot is where we call home,
and that dot looks so very alone.

So now Voyager 1 drifts infinitely further,
A lonely, silent space observer,
And our Earth a fragile blue dot,
Pale, simple, unassuming… but it’s not


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