Sanibel poet Joe Pacheco remembers Moon Day this Saturday commemorating the first day man first walked on the moon on July 20th 1969. The Apollo 11 carried astronauts Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins and Edwin Aldrin Jr. The module, nicknamed “Eagle” brought about Neil Armstrong’s quote “The Eagle has landed” when it touched down as well as his proclamation “That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.” Here’s Pacheco’s poem titled “Where Were You on July 20, 1969?”
(Read the Poem...)
On the eve of my thirty-ninth birthday,
wheeling the TV cart
into the living room
of my center hall colonial
with my wife and in-laws
and my eldest daughter Randy
on her grandfather’s lap,
(four year old Allegra
asleep in her room),
five pairs of human eyes
drinking in the incredible —
men on the moon,
greatest scientific feat of all time,
and I still struggling
with the rabbit ears antenna
to make the image clearer;
Armstrong’s carefully prepared
“one step, one leap” metaphor
milking in best Madison Avenue style
the great moment for what
it would always be worth;
my father-in-law and I
engaged in speculation
about how Jewish astronauts
could observe Rosh Hodesh,
or say the prayer to the new moon
while standing on it,
my daughter interrupting,
“Grandpa, I know the prayer by heart.”
then all of us quiet for a long time —
my last hope that it might be a hoax gone,
I felt bereft — beauty and belief
and fancies once owned proudly
now replaced by a lifeless sphere.
Next day, my birthday,
having been declared Moon Day,
the New York Times
printed its special edition
with several poems by poets
including Archibald Macleish,
some acclaiming the achievement,
others lamenting the loss,
a feast for poets
but my muse silent, lifeless.
Since then,
the moon reminds me
from time to time
that on that day
a member of my species
trampled on her face,
violating with one irreverent step
a million years of magic
and myth and wondrous gazing —
brother Apollo’s module chariot
pulling from afar
and away from us
the last ebb of silver dream.