At Home on the Moon

Echoes of another
place and time, that I call Earth,
seem distant to me now.

Far away and empty,
filled with green pastures
and sky scrapers, I do not call it home.

It is twilight on the moon tonight
as I look at the ocean below
calling out to me, pointless in effort.

In the morn of the moon
I gaze once again at the land
that watches me, endless is its probing.

Up close and carefree,
in the man-made dome I reside;
I am, at last, peacefully fulfilled.

Echoes of this new place
and time that I call home
drown me with moments of joy.

Written: 8-11-10