9. Poetry by Kimberly Kuchar
Colony Xaxbara 4
Of all the things to miss—
She misses the autumn leaves from Earth’s trees,
Leaves her son played in years ago.
Here, in their new home,
Strange, short plants grow.
They’re tough and prickly
But also nutritious.
There are no trees.
She knows why they settled here,
And she’s grateful,
But she misses inconsequential things:
A gentle breeze on her skin, in her hair.
Here, there is either no wind
Or torrential wind.
Everything is harsh.
You must always wear a suit outside.
She doesn’t regret coming.
But she worries
Her son will forget Earth.
He won’t ever again:
See wildflowers,
Feel grass under his toes,
Splash in the ocean waves,
Or lie beside a campfire looking up at the stars.
Her son and the rest of the colony
Will drink recycled water,
Eat bland, but healthy, food,
And live underneath a dome.
They will be a community,
Working hard together,
Breathing the same air.
But she wonders about
Everything they left behind.
This group will go down in history
As the first successful colony
On a new planet.
They are the future—
The embodiment of human ingenuity,
Hope.
She knows
Her son will adapt and thrive.
Kids are resilient.
But she misses Earth for him . . .
He won’t taste the rain,
Catch falling snow,
Climb a tree,
Or jump into a pile of leaves
Ever again.
Will he remember?
Kimberly Kuchar
When Kimberly Kuchar gets lost in the stars, poetry helps her find her way back. In 2022, she fell deeper in love with short-form poetry and began writing haiku sequences, haibun, and linked-verse poetry. Her work has been nominated for the Touchstone Award and the Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Frogpond, Presence, Akitsu Quarterly, tsuri-dōrō, Prune Juice Journal, Poetry Pea, The Starlight SciFaiku Review, Five Fleas Itchy Poetry, The Pan Haiku Review, Hearth & Coffin, and other publications. Kimberly also occasionally pens short fiction and enjoys taking photos. She lives near Austin with her husband (and son when he’s not at college) and pet cockatiel.