Spirit shivering…

Poor Spirit. Not only is she stuck in that ghastly dust-filled crater, she’s now having to deal with a body temperature of minus 41 deg C…
Hearing this inspired me to write a new astropoem about Spirit. Hope some of you like it…
Minus 41 Degrees

I am cold. So cold.
Once I felt young; now – as old
As the chipped, frost-nipped rocks surrounding
Me. Hard to believe I once climbed the Mountains
Of Mars, gazed down on Gusev’s Big Country Plain
To watch dust devils whirling again and again
‘cross the landscape beneath my strong wheels…
Now I feel… oh, so weary; the weight of the rusty crust
Lying on my back stoops me like an old man
And I cannot feel a thing, can merely flick
My dry, itching electronic eyes this way and that,
Wondering if each picture I take will be my last…

Current flows through me grudgingly now.
I am hungry for power, starved of it,
As thirsty for it as a vampire gone weeks without
A kill. The thrill of basking in prickly summer
Sunshine is just a memory; the low winter sun
Is sorbet-cold, hanging in the ...