That’s why they call it Stealth, I absently reminded. Jack said there must be an air show at the field When the Stealth flew over, with its push of power, black beautiful, whippingĪnything. We were sitting talking about pitiful affairs, stupid moves, junk, (I get goosepimples even now, thinking about it.) When suddenly the sky darkened, silently, for only a second. We were sitting around in the hot tub, talking about people, as usual My poem doesn’t deserve to be on the same sheet of paper as anything by Dante, but rather than talk about last week’s politics or pandering for laughs (I will keep the young guy’s seductive words), I am sharing this unread poem with the last words of one of the greatest works ever written as its title. The much better translation, then, is “To see once more the stars.” The Italian riveder Dante uses means “to see again.” You know this root-remember arrivederci, “to see each other again,” the only Italian word most of us can say reasonably well. Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars. Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear We mounted up, he first and I the second,

Henry Wordsworth Longfellow translated the lines like this: (2021 update: Applications are now closed for the 2023 trip.)ĭante’s Inferno ends with his re-emergence not just to the earth but to the heavens that surround it. Had I thought ahead and saved up those millions it will take to go into space, I doubt I would risk it all to risk it all. Sadly, the SpaceX program has had a few too many explosions for my taste. Two people have hired Elon Musk to take them around the moon, and the trip happens next year. So last week, I thought of a poem of mine that no one has seen or heard. Then in the summer of 1969, a man stepped on the moon. Their values, their loyalties, their intelligence suggested that our time would come, built on the progress we were making in civil rights and space travel, an odd but effective pairing. For three years we watched as men and women took to the stars. One element of that future was the original Star Trek. For all the violence, turmoil, protests, the 1960’s were also a time of change, we believed, for the better.

It all caused me to remember a time when those of us of a certain age had more hope. Frightening, regardless of any political perspectives. Some bad words last week too: impeachment, treason, coup. The words she used to describe her guest’s ex-boyfriend will not be repeated here-use your imagination. She was refined and rather dear, the actress with dimples and grey hair bound up jauntily. Shock value, presumably, was the purpose. I heard lots of coarse, uncivil words last week at our local civic theater, spoken by an older woman in a romantic comedy. I sighed, smitten, and bought my 1.5 yards of a material forever made magical by his words. In the night, I can imagine it bringing that light into my kitchen.” That was all. This was his response: “This other one is like sunshine.

Last week, as I struggled to decide on a butterfly-parrot-tropical leaf fabric to cover four kitchen chairs, I invited the young man who had carried another bolt to add his advice.

To the stars once more