At the Liftoff

Ten:  the countdown comes at last.
Nine:  smoke rising.  Such a blast.
Eight:  the skies so wide and bright.
Seven:  heaven's next in sight.
Six:  the quivers grip the ground.
Five:  the rocket's roaring sound.
Four:  some day we will be there.
Three:  in space suits through the air.
Two:  Mars and moons and endless stars.
One:  to soar beyond the birds.
Liftoff:  know the universe.

At the Liftoff © Copyright 2021, Robert J. Tiess.

View this poem at

Image challenge (young person staring at billowing clouds in the distance) prompt - link:
Submitted: May 16, 2020