It's the same full moon
I saw as a child

when I swore to myself
Santa Claus was floating
in mid-air

and what some people
might describe as pale and
       crazy

I saw as bright
full of hope and wonder

I'm almost 50 and I still
stare at it like I'm five

not in a childlike gullible
way but like that

of a petulant inventor
obsessed with never letting the dream
               die

we were not  just destined to
              tweet

we  have a domed spaceport
in us I see it

smack in the middle
of the Sea of Tranquility

I'll get there I know it
I can feel it

Whit Howland © 2020