by Nick Gisburne
A simple twist to tighten up the screw
Now all the parts and pieces are in place
I try to comprehend what must be true
That finally my ship is set for space
I touch the only photograph I own
The woman who adores me most of all
I know that I must make this trip alone
I wonder: will I fly, or will I fall?
I call upon the courage that I lack
My gaze is firmly focused on the sky
I know I must believe I’m coming back
But, leaving Earth, is this my last goodbye?
Today I launch my rocket to the Moon
From ground control, my mother, “Bed time, soon.”
