The news today is good.

We all wait - we all

pass the time in our usual ways, but our minds 

are deep in space, full of visions 

of the ringed planet.



We take photographs 

of everything: the trees,

the streets, the clouds... of

everything. Nothing seems to small,

or insignificant.



At night we watch the moon

intently, trying to memorise

the details, that we might describe them

to our grandchildren,

should things work out.



Or will we, thirty years 

(earth years) from now, sat watching

the setting rings, be forced to listen

to the disrespectful shouts of young men:

"HEY, OLD EARTHIES!"?



Their children will forget us,

dismiss our moonmaps

as the imaginative work

of a primitive society.