They float to the moon
in origami rockets.
Astronauts from
a childhood fantasy.
The moon smells
like a green apple.
They walk freely
on its skin without
helmets or spacesuits.
They build a town.
Stores and houses.
Schools and libraries.
A street fair with
lots of free parking.
And the moon people
come to live there.
Up from their craters
and their moon caves.
A gentle sleepy race.
Just the right sort
to carry our dreams.
(Appeared in Strange Horizons)
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