I floated past the airlock door
Where magnetic seals hug floor to floor
A cobbler sits on welded crate
Buffing boots on Titan's slate
His brush moves slow no rush no race
Leather drinks the oil's dark grace
Orbital cobbler stitching night
Thread holds fast where gravity's light
Each polished seam a quiet prayer
For pilots sleeping in the air
Orbital cobbler steady hand
Mending what the void has planned
His apron bears the scorch of re-entry burn
Stitches glow where meteorites turn
He never asks where vessels go
He reads the wear on heel and toe
A language written in scuff and crease
He reads it all with practiced ease
My camera catches ice crystals rise
Caught in shaft of mercury skies
He glances up one dark eye bright
Sees the runaway in hangar light
No words needed no questions asked
Just nods toward the empty task
Orbital cobbler stitching night
Thread holds fast where gravity's light
Each polished seam a quiet prayer
For pilots sleeping in the air
Orbital cobbler steady hand
Mending what the void has planned
Zero pressure zero sound
But leather remembers every pound
Of boots that walked on Mars red dust
Of jumps that shattered solar crust
He tends the skin that holds the bone
In places no one calls their home
I snap the frame the moment keeps
A cobbler's vigil while the station sleeps
My battery dies my breath clouds slow
But his brush keeps moving row on row
Some orbits break some hold their line
His hands know every stitch and sign
