Science  Write  Now

it’s the earring that vanishes

on hitting the ground, the last pill

of a nonrenewable prescription,

one bounce, and singularity.

It’s all the socks, the tax forms,

the entire afternoon that’s gone

in a couple of pages of a good book.

The shadows under the table

that suck in strays with a gravity

so insistent you will never

get them back.

And it’s the sudden appearance

of that favorite pen—a room away

with no intervening steps.

Physics is just catching up.

It’s the thud that consumes itself,

leaving one teetering on the lip

of anguish, wonder—the unwilling certainty

of dimensions that sometimes leave

traces of poetry.