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george-hastings
American Retired professor, astronomy and space science
With all the world waiting We turned our eyes skyward. Remember that day when we all looked through Our electric windows on the universe, Seeing old spheres from a new point of view? Three times again, and again, and again, Descending on dancing flames, They scurried, slow-motion, through ancient dust Who still now remembers their names? They did the unthinkable, achieved the impossible, Went where none had preceded, and more. "Ho-hum! ...another launch, you say? Is football on Channel Four?" Mechanical colonists left behind When we blasted back home in our ships Drew life in their bellies from shattering atoms, Energizing electronic chips. They sensed the heat of ancient fires, Moon-embers, banked deep inside. They felt the star-bits streaming, And the rumbling silent tide. ALSEP voices, talking to Earth In chattering bits and bytes Sent their colonial treasures back Through the lunar days and nights. They measured the limb-shocked solar winds, Changing the charges in sputtered lands, And vibrating signals crossed the void, Twitching inked fingers on metal hands. The footprints and tire-tracks, unchanging, remain. Like paths to the future, they glisten. Solipsistic sentinals converse with themselves, But there's nobody left who can listen.
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Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 6:16 AM UTC
Ode to ALSEP