by Dan Campion

“The Artemis II crew saw parts of the moon never seen before.”
—NPR

A ball of rock and dust, the Moon attracts
But does not welcome us. Its silver disk
On close inspection turns to cataracts
Of ancient scurf and powder. Yet we risk
Catastrophe to get there and return,
Touched by the Moon, with our impressions of
Her grace. We pray with every rocket burn
That Newton’s iron laws show us some love.
We haven’t sent a poet yet. No need.
Keats never met Achilles, never stood
Upon a peak and watched a sunset bleed
Across the North Pacific. Yet he could
Be there in Darien, be there at Troy,
Be there when Cynthia made Earth her toy.