When it streaked across the sky
It was not a natural fly
It zig zagged quite a bit
Changing direction before it hit
And it lit the night
In an awesome sight
When it hit the ground
In a furrow it was found
What was left of a spaceship
Glowed hot in the bottom of the pit
We could not get near to the metal
There was no hiding it from the people
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem