Today is the 40th anniversary of the day Apollo 11 astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to set foot on the moon. July 20, 1969 was a day that many who were alive to see it will remember for the rest of their lives. Sanibel poet Joe Pacheco sent us this poem that he wrote on that day:




Where Were You On July 20, 1969? – Joe Pacheco, Sanibel
On the eve of my 39th birthday,

wheeling the TV cart into the living room of my center hall colonial

with my wife and in-laws and my eldest daughter Randy on her grandfather’s lap,

(four year old Allegra asleep in her room), five pairs of human eyes drinking in the incredible —
men on the moon, greatest scientific feat of all time,

and I still struggling with the rabbit ears antenna to make the image clearer;


Armstrong’s carefully prepared “one step, one leap” metaphor

milking in best Madison Avenue style

the great moment for what it would always be worth;


my father-in-law and I engaged in speculation

about how Jewish astronauts could observe Rosh Hodesh,

or say the prayer to the new moon while standing on it,

my daughter interrupting, “Grandpa, I know the prayer by heart”;


then all of us quiet for a long time —

my last hope that it might be a hoax gone, I felt bereft —

beauty and belief and fancies once owned proudly

now replaced by a lifeless sphere;


next day biggest headline ever on front page of the Times:

MEN LAND ON MOON and a poem by Archibald MacLeish

followed a few days later by a special edition featuring several poems,

some acclaiming the achievement,

others lamenting the loss,

a feast for poets but my muse silent,

lifeless.


Since then, the moon reminds me from time to time

that on that day a member of my species trampled on her face,

violating with one irreverent step

a million years of magic and myth and wondrous gazing —

brother Apollo’s module chariot pulling from afar and away from us,

the last ebb of silver dream.