I saw you, once,
inside the dusty glass of your bedroom window
watching the rain as it fell, heavily,
soft and emotionlessly, on the heads and on the shoulders
of the passersby below.
Pacing the rectangle of your apartment,
you used to go on journeys round the world.
Spun the globe up on the bookshelf
and watched your fingers land.
All your ten pale fingertips
were thin moons
pulled irrevocably by earth's gravity,
doomed to fall.
Outside, pedestrian
pedestrians wandered in circles
not knowing their place, perched precariously on
the smooth-lined curving of a sphere
every step bringing them back around
to the beginning.
In your apartment,
peering through the window,
you are acquainted with both the perils
and the joys
of gravity.
The earth that held us close
and far apart
like stars, or angels,
or death-defying comets. |
Submission Name: gravity
