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There hung by a silver chain

in the biggest room of all was  

the huge disk-shaped galleon

Mom and I came to see,


a dragon ship with arching blue wings,

its shimmering silk sails riding

solar winds into

the next galaxy,


its bone rudder

swinging it over our heads

revealing its inky eye, tight-stretched

wire and silken threads


connecting the ship’s lights

and the black and white antennae

to the shell and bead homes

people live in.


Mom was right,

I loved it, but I still

prefer living here

on earth I think.

Norman Klein

The Museum with Mom


Norman Klein has an Iowa MFA and published 15 poems last year in literary magazines and journals. He's taught writing in Boston, Cambridge, and Chicago, and now lives and writes in back woods of New Hampshire.

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