You were a late addition to the itinerary:
A layover in Paris at 15 kilometers a second,
the last tune-up before the main event.
But some of us enjoy Paris more than
spending time at the icy slopes.
You present the usual facade:
The pockmarked, scarred body
those in your neighborhood cannot avoid.
But what are you really about?
Where are you from? Who are your kin?
Surveilled from all angles, in light and in heat,
Your voice remains flat,
your face a gray, dusty mirror
reflecting back the Sun.
You hide your secrets well.
Seven score years after your discovery,
we still know more about
what you aren't
than what you are.