The Colour of Dreams in Cryonic Sleep I stand on the gantry, shake each astronaut by the hand, they tell me it’ll be fine. I’m still there as the rocket launches, but its flames don’t melt me. I find I’m the one in space, floating this way and that, and stars are sweets; I pick … Continue reading The Colour of Dreams in Cryonic Sleep – A Poem by Roger Hare