The turning Earth laughs,
Uncaring of your presence
On the barren moon.
You try to reach them,
But the people repel you.
Bitter, you return.
Dejected, you think
About their demands to
Give your self away.
Is it a fair trade?
Your self for some company--
Is your self so great?
But you love your self
And don't want to give her up
For a grinning mask.
So you sit, and wait,
And try again and again
To reach out to Earth.
Someday you'll make it,
But meanwhile, you realize the
Moon is smiling too.
Spring '99
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