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.”