Out this morning, early,
six-ish, for George’s
pee and poop walk.
Westward, the moon,
high in the sky, and bright,
and nearly round. I’d not,
I thought, mind a walk
up there, if managed
without fuss: the rockets,
the space suit, the lunar
landing module. Just me
and George, and a glance
back at our footprints
in the silver moon dust.
Meanwhile, to the east,
the first glow of sunrise.
Thin slips of high cloud,
pink-ish, ready for the dawn.
Grateful for all this
beauty of the firmament
we make our way back
home, the two of us, ready,
if not yet quite resigned,
for another earthbound day.
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