Alone in the cabin, waiting
for the Earth to rise, you could feel
solitude expanding, passing
through you (how curious
the body) like the queasing waves
of radiation stars greet us with.
I know you were not the most
alone since Adam, but more so—
you could remember someone
needing to touch your body.
You listened, unsure
how to respond, as Armstrong
and Aldrin walked the surface,
and still the small emptiness
we wish we could end
with words or experience.
Did your mind leap
to deer lining the road home
late at night, their heads tipping
up to see they do not need
to know you? I cannot find
how the light you shone
showed some meaningful curve
to aloneness for any of us
who have spent the day in bed,
the phone off, the light off,
the day off.
I have heard my father
call my name from the hall,
tell me dinner is ready, and found
it was only a dream of him
alive that woke me. After the dream,
Michael, I had to get up.
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