Moontouch

I touched the moon today

it sat split open

under a light.

One of the most expensive

rocks on the planet

a black gem

polished by saw

and hurled through the cosmos.

And when I touched it

it touched me.

Antarctica

Where have gone the Shakleton's?
The Amundsens and the Scotts?
Are they still out there
Frozen by pride or friendship?

Or have they endured,
into astronauts and scientists?
Who push the boundaries
of maps and knowledge
with Diplomas and Dissertations.

Maybe they have instead deferred,
suppressed their nature.
Choosing instead RPG's
Loud music, and movies.
Inoculated themselves
against the vast greatness
of human potential.

I'm somewhere still on the ice,
playing football on the melting floe,
the boat crushed
but full of hope.