And on the fifth day
And after orbit twelve,
I'm by myself.
Hovering, all alone, 69 miles from the moon,
never once straying from my capsule.
Why can't I touch down, why am I not one of those to go,
let my footpads signal contact like the Eagle down below?
Circling, restlessly, bored as hell in zero-G,
wondering why it's them instead of me.
21 hours straight from the nightside to the day,
knowing that no one will remember my name.