Thursday, October 3, 2019

Moon Landing +50


It rained most of that week
So we couldn’t see it anyway
with the naked eye
And the grainy TV imagery
and the muffled voices
From a quarter million miles away

This orbed story seeming so alien
to my lifeguard lifestyle
and the big concert
Coming up in a couple weeks
over in New York State
Or that moony girl
who kept draping herself
         on my white guard stand,

Recalling that when Apollo was announced
We believed what the President said
before Vietnam
And Watergate and stagflation
Opened a continental latrine trench
Between the government
and the people,

Nearly failing to mention that this was only
another Frontier story
another land grab
Of empty spaces occupied by nothing
or mere heathens thus
Ripe for that special Christian rapacity
         forgiven in advance
for bringing the Word
to the wilderness,

Awakening too late to the bitterly plain
         truth that that savage
wisdom is what we needed
All along to keep this singular
blue pearl
From becoming a charcoal-dusted
cratered place
Where a white man’s bootprint
lasts a million years.


          © Bill Prindle, 2019


Apollo 11 bootprint, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons


1 comment:

jean said...

Powerful poem!!! Wonderful word sounds! Love it!