under the shadow of the moon

The men who grew

like mushrooms on the cold grey moon

sprang up in silence.

 

I wrote us all

a theme song

but it fell into the air

invisible.

 

Nobody heard me

when I called you

and said, what’s new?

 

We spent years building a rocket ship

to take us to the Earth –

so far away it looked like

something to eat,

candy-bright.

 

A jubilant chorus

of vibrant blue and green

thrilled up and down

our erect spines.

 

When we touched down,

emerging sweaty and triumphant,

I licked the ground

 

expecting a mouthful of colour,

and was surprised to get

dry dust tasting of iron.

 

The moon looked sad that night,

looming over us enormous

and so pale.

 

I hope you’re okay,

I called up to it,

the words still alien

and hesitant on my tongue.

 

I’m not sure but

I thought I saw a frown

spreading over its cratered face.

 

I love you, I said

but my voice cracked

like a desert.

 

That day I shrank

an inch and a half.

The gravity of the situation

did not escape me,

 

nor I it.

 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/49oyf8/the_old_dead/d0tu7qx

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/49p4xk/telescope_haiku/d0tu36o