Monday, August 27, 2012

Poem of the Day: the Moon's Mourning of Neil Armstrong

It was posted here, on, and I hope that the author, Roz Kaveney, doesn't mind me reposting it.

(For Neil Armstrong)

In her white silent place, the hangings dust,
grey pebbles stretching to the edge of black
so far away. The goddess feels a lack
somewhere elsewhere, an ache deep as her crust

and weeps dry tears. The gentleman is gone
the first who ever called. His feet were light
as he danced on her. Went into the night
quite soon, his calling and his mission done

yet still his marks remain. Footfalls and flag.
The others she forgets. He was the first
to slake her ages long and lonely thirst
for suitors. Now she feels the years drag

as they did not before he came to call.
Our grief compared to hers weighs naught at all.

-- Roz Kaveney

This reminds me, slightly of Jonathan Coulton's lovely song, "I'm Your Moon", which was the love song that Charon sung to Pluto to reassure it after it was demoted from planethood.

Earlier thoughts about Neil Armstrong's passing here.

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