I was trying to write a poem about it, and all I got was:

O moon, o moon,
Send out your midnight beams.
Let me see your silver luster
Rendered on a Linux cluster.

In the parts I already tossed out, the world had ended and the Sun evaporated us both, Earth and Moon, merged at last, no more steps of any size, and I was thinking about the Earth writing the Moon a reverse sonnet, an apology for capturing it - and there were only six men up there, and not a single moonman down here, and it's just a rock for Christ's sake is it still a romantic object? it is to me i suppose the moonlight on the wabash etc. etc.