Rocket Man

My father was a rocket man
He often went to Jupiter or Mercury, to Venus or to Mars
My mother and I would watch the sky
And wonder if a falling star
Was a ship becoming ashes with a rocket man inside
My mother and I
Never went out
Unless the sky was cloudy or the sun was blotted out
Or to escape the pain
We only went out when it rained
My father was a rocket man
He loved the world beyond the world, the sky beyond the sky
And on my mother’s face, as lonely as the world in space
I could read the silent cry
That if my father fell into a star
We must not look upon that star again
My mother and I
Never went out
Unless the sky was cloudy or the sun was blotted out
Or to escape the pain
We only went out when it rained
Tears are often jewel-like
My mother’s went unnoticed by my father, for his jewels were the stars
And in my father’s eyes I knew he had to find
In the sanctity of distance something brighter than a star
One day they told us the sun had flared and taken him inside
My mother and I
Never went out
Unless the sky was cloudy or the sun was blotted out
Or to escape the pain
We only went out when it rained