I saw a moonshot launch when I was young,
One of the last, of course, for then they stopped
Our trips to that great ball of rock that’s hung
Above our planet like lighted lure.
The cylinder was lifted on a column
Of blazing fire. We knew that it was topped
By men who risked their lives, so something solemn
Caught in our throats as they began their tour.
I’d say that we are bound to go again.
I’d say our sister rock is out there still
Awaiting visitation from our kind.
The tech improves, the prices drop, and then -
Though many claimed we’d simply lost the will -
The thirst to sail rehaunts the human mind.
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