By Theodore A. Henning II

The little girl tugged mother's skirt and asked "What's in the sky?"
Looking up she saw a light, a fireball way up high.
The plumage trail behind it, boomed out a thunderous roar.
Just then the next door neighbor, emerged from out her door.

She clasped her head and cried aloud Oh I pray it isn't true!
Seven astronauts were coming home, their time in space was through.
Oh God, please no! She's breaking up, see the pieces in the sky.
She shut her eyes and turned away, as tears came forth, she cried.
 

Seven angels live on, in the hearts of those below.
Seven angels from the earth, now gaze at streets of gold.
Seven angels and Columbia will be remembered well,
Kalpana, Rick and Michael, Laurel and David, Ilan and Bill.

Mother knelt beside her child, now visibly upset.
Her loving arms embraced the girl, as she clutched her to her breast.
"Oh Mom I'm scared, what does this mean, are all the people dead?"
And with heads bowed in silence, not another word was said.

Chorus

The whole world morns this tragic loss, our heroes of space flight.
Somewhere in the great unknown, standing vigil in the night.
Knowing people here on Earth press onward to the stars.
Perhaps because of what they did we'll someday walk on Mars.

Chorus
 

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