October 25, 2015 life
The moon
is a place,
rocky and deserted.
How magical,
that it hangs in the sky,
beckoning for us to visit,
again.
How strange to know
that we were there,
and left.
How strange it must have seemed,
eons ago,
to the first of us
who looked up in wonder.
How magical it must have been,
how magical it remains.