When I think about Moon

I remember the days under open skies in the raw fields of wheat
A burning fire
An absence of reason in a joyful game
With someone
I liked to catch
Perplexed
Close
Disarmingly
The cold moon was never close to me.
I can't imagine being there.
One day self replicating something might be infected into it's cold waterless surface.
Within matter of days it may populate large areas of what seemed so far from being alive.
Change everything sensationally.
Absence of feelings is dead body in nameless grave.
I think about Moon
Desires exuberant oxygen raw black skies stars sharply in memory
Was it yesterday
Or never
With you