Apologia to the Moon
You’ve seen it coming,
silent pulses in the galaxy
beaming microwaves
like Cupid’s arrows
headed toward you
as if you were the sole
milky breast from which
humans must save themselves
from extinction.
We humans could not leave
you alone, leave you to hide
now and then, to glory
in your ability to lay down
silver in front of lovers
at a lake. We had to visit,
stomp around your dusty surface,
marking it like children
who can’t resist violating pristine snow
with angels or planting hands into wet cement.
We humans had to steal from you
rocks and dirt all those years ago.
And now, as irresistibly drawn
to you as the seas moaning
with your tidal pull, with Artemis,
we fly by like a huckster’s lariat,
make irreversible plans to return
to your surface with reinforcements
who in turn, plan to make of you
a celestial way station in our drive
to exploit the next frontier.
Oh dear earth’s moon, our own
child-hood sorceress, you’re going to have
to endure phase after phase
of waxing populations of humans
and hardware forever more.
Please try to keep at least one secret,
become whatever can remain unattainable.
I wish we could have covered
our naked eyes a while longer,
in order to give you a chance to evade
our greedy ambition.