Authors and scientists tout the impossibility,
the sheer wonder of time travel as if it hid with a leprechaun’s
hoard at the base of a neverending

Yet six coal robed men and women can launch 
us into the cult of domesticity with the stroke of a fountain pen,
dragging us back into a world of forbidden contraceptives
and caged women who could only dream
of a future where they could decide to soar,
spreading their wings in their own time.

These women did not have the luxury of a crystal ball
to see a reflection of their present in the twenty-first century.