untitled
Scientist on the radio:
“If life on Earth were a calendar year,
human existence until right now
would only mark the very last second.”
This morning, together,
we all woke up and focused
our blurry vision, began listing plans,
dividing the time, easy as a knife
through segments of gemlike orange.
As for me, this morning like every other:
sun rose as promised.
This world moved
upon itself, around the sun
like it always has: night
bleached away here, the very rock
moving centimeter-slow beaneath
our feet.
8 thoughts on "untitled"
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I like how the first stanza ends with the concrete color “orange,” how the quote is about time and the end of the poem is about space, and the way the word “bleached” is up to no good.
Thank you, Dr. Bedetti!
I love this line: “dividing the time, easy as a knife through segments of gemlike orange.” Great poem!
Thanks, Dennis J. Preston!
This poem had a laser focus on the “moment” and how much control we think we have but realize we have little at all. “Bleached” is so out of place here but that’s what makes it powerful.
Thank you, Sylvia Ahrens!
Sounds like my mornings. Nice observation.
Thank you, Harold Sherman!