Deck Chairs and Boats
A snail crosses
along a razor's edge,
from it's past, complete.
To it's futures, separate.
And just before it's twin selves
slide down the opposite sides
of a steely wall
it's last thought
captures the totality
of it's trek.
The atom in the
quantum corral,
a mirage of the discrete,
or a sum total of all?
Deck chairs and boats
in a Duchampion universe.
How would our own years
be viewed,
ninety degrees
from the razor's edge?
Copyright © Ahellas Alixopulos | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment