Buzz Aldrin is asked to remember it again.

The footfall. The desolation.

Leave me alone he shouts in his mind.

Alone where I can be the spectral captain

of my own tin-can ship on a sea of moondust.

Sailing under the blackest of skies

my wake silver diamonds

the Earth my polestar.

I call as a siren calls,

they come to me beauteous and free

the seraphim and the archangels.

Here I perform the Eucharist

here I sup with heaven

The Lord my bread and wine.

No sin stands unforgiven

no tears to fill my eyes,

just sunlight and moonshine

both in perfect unity.


…”Yes,” he blinks rapidly under the hot lights

“The moon was pretty desolate.”