Even if you were not born yet

the matter from which you were made

is in this picture

 

and I cannot decide if this means

that nothing really matters or that

everything matters.

 

Sunday morning silence.

 

Self-imposed solitude

contemplating an unaccompanied cosmonaut.

 

Left in lunar orbit

to keep the systems running

while Armstrong and Aldrin are Moon-bound, Glory-bound

Collins loses all communication with the Earth

and takes a snapshot.

 

No earthly loneliness could match such isolation

and yet

sometimes I feel like the sole survivor of a mission that failed

and I never even got the chance to walk on the Moon.

 

 

 

Spangle McQueen_author photo

 

Spangle McQueen is a happy grandma and hopeful poet living in Sheffield UK.

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