Summer of ’69

man on the moon3 orbit

It was one of those lucid
You know where you were
One small step for Man moments
When smells sounds touch and taste
Are forever imprinted
One giant leap for Mankind
A footprint
In the lunar psyche
For me
Even now a dyed in the wool
Teetotaller

It is
The aroma of vintage Napoleon Brandy
Sipped slowly
From a goldfishbowl glass
Accepted with my schoolboy French
“Merci beaucoup madame”
Still as heartwarming and smooth
As it was to a callow youth
In the summer of 69

In search of sun
Savoir faire
And maybe not the meaning of life
But in that moment
In a provincial Breton backwater
Invited to watch
This moment
Being there
At the right time
In the right place

I knew then
That something had changed.

© Alan Webb

man on moon orbit

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