by Nick Gisburne
It crashed beyond the western city wall
The silver capsule, spinning, lost control
And she, the stationed sentry, saw it fall
It struck the snow dunes, punched a perfect hole
Dispatched to drag the pilot from the wreck
She finds a broken, alien device
Impossible to comprehend its tech
A mystery, a wonder in the ice
A sticky flow escapes the cold machine
It falls upon the fingers of her hand
She marvels at its oily, scarlet sheen
A clue she does not clearly understand
A puzzle, how the gears of life could spin
Without a clockwork core, like hers, within
