Kindra McDonald

Mission


I dream this month of Artemis
of hunting and the wild animals
that leave their trails across the grass
at night. Some mornings, my pillow is damp
from tears or paw prints. I imagine soon
a rocket bearing the goddess’ name will circle
the moon searching for Orion in its orbit, searching
for a way to Mars, as we flood and burn and fight,
we look to the stars
we will always hunt.