leave it alone

they say there's water

on the moon.

good.

coffee can't be far behind

and a

cinnamon scone.

why are they so bothered

with that bright orb so far

away and yet so close.

there's no air.

there's nothing but sand

and stones.

can't they leave it alone,

leave it for the poets,

the philosophers

and the lovers

who walk

hand and hand below.