intents20001

July, 1969

(copyright 2019)Michael S. Walker

There’s a man on the moon!

I shouted

And I ran outside to see if

Somehow

The moon had been altered

I was eight

And, of course

There were no signs

Of those shadows jumping around

Those doughty gymnasts

Coolly describing miracles

The moon tilted

Over the vacant lot

The lot where we sometimes played

Soldier in Vietnam

It gave back no extra light

Or wisdom

The fireflies collapsed on the lawn

The dogs still howled for their supper

And the flag stood intractable

In the no breeze

I stood there squinting at the moon

Wishing I was an astronaut

Wishing I was a telescope

Wishing there was something more

To this miracle

Then a million flickering TVs

Until I grew blind

And went back inside

To watch some more