The Moon-landing was back in ‘70,
Did I know what I was seeking? I think not,
There, in the mountains and craters outside,
For I cannot leave Apollo’s sealed hatch.
In cryogenic sleep through the deep years,
Til a moon-unit came knocking where I sat.
‘Would you like to play?’ then reached my ears,
‘Our crater-brine will be a wine for two.’
So, bolt-upright I sat and perked my ears,
And walked with joy into the land of tears.
Copyright 2022 Jeffrey Merk
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