Lost in the deep, dark ocean
on the landing strip of Neptune,
waiting to be found.
The passengers have crossed the River Styx,
accompanied by Charon, ferried one by one.
The mystery remains, how did the plane arrive at this place,
not by their choice, another decided upon this grave.
The pings continue, though their quality degrades,
attempts at triangulation to raise it up into the light.
Farewells to be voiced, grief to be expressed,
bodies to join with spirits, families to release their hold.
Not to be forgotten, the plane that vanished in 2014,
despite the high tech,
the skills and determination of so many,
the pieces of the puzzle do not fit.
Not to know the answer,
acceptable, no, reality, yes.
|photo by author|