Acer palmatum dissectum atropurpureum

Flying along through space side by side, pulled together by the joint gravity of the children, who spin indolently, thoughtlessly about their own centres.


In the distance, a red light appeared. Streaking into our atmosphere, corkscrew, spiral flames, speeding through our orbit, knocking you out of place, dragging you away with the force only a newcomer can engender.

Tumbling and turning, churning and broiling in the inferno of the asteroid.

Unable to keep up with the youngster, you snapped back to the family. Our orbits disrupted, we wobbled and ellipsed, but never regain our equilibrium. The fiery feature held your centre away from us.

Desperate to settle, try anything to make it right, let's move apart so we can pull back into a new space dance together. Measure the gravity, rearrange the orbits.

Spaced; you spun out facing the wrong way, you went to church. You are there now.

The children sail between us, oblivious to the changed positions in space. The occasional debris knocks them off course. Their own paths have been deflected.

Now I sail away from your sphere of influence. The spinning will stop soon.