An Ode to Mr. Spock

On the bridge there stands an empty chair.
The seat and back are teal, with lines running
up the back from the seat like the sun rising
under the water. Black arms cased in silver.

The chair sits at its station of computer
keys and monitors. It observes the world
through the stain glass window of the known fields
and methods of the sciences.

It stands alone in solitude, unused
for fear of disturbing such an empty
chair. Its emptiness haunted by the
legacy, the life, the presence of the

man who should be there. Why isn’t he there?
He should be there! It’s where he’s always
been, an unassailable fortress of
logic and rationality, a

bastion against emotional chaos.
I could always see him there, comforted
by his presence. His wisdom would wash
over like the gentle, warm air through the

bedroom’s overhead vents. But my friend has
gone away. The needs of the many
outweighs the needs of the few or the one.

But the many are in need, they have lost
the One whose friendship and constancy are
more valuable than any star ship.

He said, “There are always possibilities.”
Live long and prosper, Ambassador Spock.

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~ by hankimler on March 4, 2015.

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