Until We Are Children Again

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
Sir. Phillip Sidney, from Astrophel and Stella

the moon shakes out its dreams
could it be the astronauts will notice this time the gleams settled in as they are
into their routine down pat now
will they drift by all cyber eyed in cold love of the logistics
on their way to staid experiments and mapping uber statistics
and leave the moon without a trace

of recognition, gold sobbing gold
futilely into the clouds. with "how slow steps..." she is
murmuring this aloud in a coded language
to interstellar winds...o how can they pretend
they do not know you, you who watched over them.
children saw you for what you were for centuries
can grown men see too, now? or do they leave with no regrets
no calling card inscribed in silver wonder. no stardust bouquets.
I wonder about you treading the night skies this interminable way
your name locked out of post modern poetry
suspended there like a coin out of reach out of the realm entirely now
we can never spend
until we are children again.

mary angela douglas 11 july 2020