In a gray bay, white sailboats
curve across what's for their
sailors now and for us past.
Our Bay of Today is another
matter; it's blue, chipped
by whitecaps. In what seems
to be a sea of quantum
probability, no thing exists,
and all things just keep
happening. The universe
becomes an eventful
occurrence. Well,
everybody's got their
own lifeboat floating
in what seems like
the moment, with
its carrots, rocks, and sky
and ways of wondering why.
hans ostrom 2022
No comments:
Post a Comment