Quietly, like a night bird, floating, soaring, wingless. We glide from shore to shore, curving and falling but not quite touching; Earth: a distant memory seen in an instant of repose, crescent shaped, ethereal, beautiful, I wonder which part is… — Alfred Worden Copy Share Image
Quietly, like a night bird, floating, soaring, wingless. We glide from shore to shore, curving and falling but not quite touching; Earth: a distant… — Alfred Worden Copy Share Image
Now I know why I'm here. Not for a closer look at the moon, but to look back at our home, the Earth. — Alfred Worden Copy Share Image
