Matthew Murrey on “Moon Dirt”
I love when I see or hear something in the news that makes me want to write a poem. When that happens, it’s often a bit of striking information about the natural world, or a captivating image, or a story that resonates with my own lived experience. The best thing is when it’s something that involves all of these. My poem, “Moon Dirt,” owes its start to just such an article – “Cress seeds grown in moon dust raise hopes for lunar crops” – which I saw in The Guardian on May 12, 2022. It was a story touching on science, human survival, and humans on the moon. The article also featured photos of green sprouts growing in small samples of moon dirt. I was hooked.
The article stirred up memories, emotions and concerns. I thought about the moon landings of my childhood and how transfixed I was by them. I reflected on how the number of humans on the planet has more than doubled since those days of the Apollo missions and how the human-caused climate catastrophe is now upon us, gravely threatening our future. I also was intrigued by the optimism of the scientists with their hopes for growing food on the moon, and by their excitement at seeing the little sprouts—the first plants to ever grow from moon dirt.
For me, the challenge was to write a poem that might in some way get near the astonishment, wonder, reverie and underlying dread I felt as I read about the work of the scientists.
In my first attempts at this poem I used no stanza breaks and often commented directly about my doubts and dreads. I wasn’t satisfied and tried using couplets as a way to both pace the poem and pare away some of what felt like intrusive personal commentary. I wanted to find subtler ways to work some of my misgivings and worries into the descriptive language of the poem. I hope that comes through.
Finally, I had no idea where or how the poem would end, and struggled quite a bit with that. As I revised the poem, I kept thinking about the moon. The fact that it always presents only one side to the earth – and how it looks like a somber face when full – helped me bring the poem back to earth, so to speak.