Carpe Noctem

It’s zero three oh three
& the last sound off was
Jiminy
That chirp of a cricket
Off in a corner o’er there sipping tea

Red toadstools with the missus
Rip Van Winkle lost his sheep

neither comprehend the other

by one account
airborne clear through the  stratosphere
blacking out between
zero G’s
straddling exosphere
in between photo-ops with the stars