Face-first at the planet side;
silver shine on the back, a calm good-bye.
I’m coming back in, saddest moment of my life.
 
Nothing quite American as cherry pie.
 
Crowds gather, good friends and family;
aliens when compared to the orb I still see.
“I feel fine, how about you?”
“What’s it like, the first leap on the moon?”
 
“I see it in my dreams;
I stand, a darkness.
The spacecraft, a chamber
waits for my final call to home.
I see the world, caught infinitely in its waking hour;
here, alone, I have the final say in power.”
 
Looking back at the Earth, standing on the moon, I cried
The words keep coming back; “Contact light”
“Contact light”.
 
Boots heavier when I step, down there.
Bones lighter in the void.
(Ask me if I care.)
Land the eagle, it still wants to fly.
 
Nothing quite American as cherry pie.

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