D
Daniel
Guest
The dry basin of the moon held either bones
of a race or something pure not yet beginning.
All summer we had waited for it to fill the screen,
In the hushed room our faces were radiant, off-blue
Eight children in our family gathered around
to observe two figures digging dirt in outer space,
mother repeating Neil Armstrong's words as though
she were learning a prayer, electronically conveyed.
The dunes gleamed like ancient silk, like crushed
pearls. In the constant lunar nights his luminescence
was everything. It was a creature unto itself.
It poured into the room like a gradual flood
of lightning, touching every object with the cool burn
of something not quite on fire. If we stepped out
Manila would be somewhere else. Already this was
limco, a state of abeyance, a final way-station.
It didn't matter, at that moment, where our lives
would lead: one brother would disown another,
one sister was going to dies. Not yet unhappy,
we were ready to walk on the moon. Ready, also
to know this time there was no turning back.
It was black ether, in whose space we were no longer
the selves we had been, our bags already packed,
the future a religion we could believe in.
Can someone interpret it to me, Il give the best answer to the answer I like best.
of a race or something pure not yet beginning.
All summer we had waited for it to fill the screen,
In the hushed room our faces were radiant, off-blue
Eight children in our family gathered around
to observe two figures digging dirt in outer space,
mother repeating Neil Armstrong's words as though
she were learning a prayer, electronically conveyed.
The dunes gleamed like ancient silk, like crushed
pearls. In the constant lunar nights his luminescence
was everything. It was a creature unto itself.
It poured into the room like a gradual flood
of lightning, touching every object with the cool burn
of something not quite on fire. If we stepped out
Manila would be somewhere else. Already this was
limco, a state of abeyance, a final way-station.
It didn't matter, at that moment, where our lives
would lead: one brother would disown another,
one sister was going to dies. Not yet unhappy,
we were ready to walk on the moon. Ready, also
to know this time there was no turning back.
It was black ether, in whose space we were no longer
the selves we had been, our bags already packed,
the future a religion we could believe in.
Can someone interpret it to me, Il give the best answer to the answer I like best.