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Space Poetry

A poem by Ron Drummond Lunar Sacrament
Buzz Aldrin took the sacrament on the moon, cup, wine, wafer, prayer: cross made out of nothing but bottled air stirred into brief cruciform presence by an articulate hand, human reverence hovering in a bubble above an ancient bone-dry sea that knew more change in a few life-pulsing hours than in the thousand thousand millennia that came before. Neil Armstrong bore witness, spoke not a word, told no one what, in that timeless, momentary ceremony before their long short walk, he'd seen and heard, a flickering cross of life, or nothing, on a briefly untranquil sea.

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