Welcome to the Poetry Friday Roundup! (Curious about Poetry Friday? Read this post by Renée M. LaTulippe.) I’m happy to be your host today. The news this week is heartbreaking and scary. At times like these, poetry is especially important, as it reminds us of our common hopes and dreams, desires and longings. I sure the posts shared today will bring us hope for peace.
When I told Heidi I would take over her hosting duties today, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to feature Irene Latham‘s incredible new book, The Museum on the Moon: The Curious Objects on the Lunar Surface. (Bushel & Peck Books, 2023) As a child of the sixties and the daughter of an Air Force veteran, the NASA program and the Apollo missions were woven into our family life. Launches and splashdowns were required viewing. Irene has taken us beyond what we watched on TV or read about in Life magazine to the surface of the moon. She has written with her hallmark wordplay and vivid descriptions to give us insights into the objects brought along on those pioneering flights. From the symbolic (“Old Glory,” describing the “time-tattered, sun-battered” flag left at each landing site) to the deeply personal (a photograph of “one smiling family” that “makes its home/on the lunar floor), Irene’s poems give us new insight into things we thought we knew and teaches us much more we that we didn’t. For instance, I remember the Alan Shepard’s golfing (“Alan Shepard’s Advice for Golfing on the Moon”), but I didn’t know about the gold replica of an olive branch that Neil Armstrong left at the Sea of Tranquility (“Peace”). The realistic illustrations of Myriam Wares, in a palette of warm blues and rosy pinks, brings each of these poems to life.
I originally wanted to write about The Museum on the Moon back in September, closer to its launch on September 19th, but I have a new role and responsibilities at my school and getting into the swing of things took every brain cell I had. This was just before Dot Day. As I read “Forever Footprints,” this photograph came to mind:
Somehow, this reminded me of the Cueva de las Manos in Argentina. Apparently our desire to leave our mark is ancient and universal.
This sparked the idea for this poem:
“Giant Leap”
Ghostly handprints,
Images stenciled in stone, reach out
Across millennia
Narrowing distance,
Transcending time. Ten thousand
Lifetimes later, lunar
Explorers left footprints,
Announcing our
Presence, our will to leave our mark eternal.
Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023
Thank you, Irene and Myriam, for this gorgeous inspiring book. Don’t forget to leave a link to your Poetry Friday post!
Reading to the Core 