Thursday, December 15, 2011

I believe that Schroedinger’s cat is still alive…

A tattered old lady (yes, with pearls),
thirteen boys and girls from a nearby elementary school,
Michael and his famous dog Curly
and one lone swan flying in from Charleston, South Carolina;
all of them converged last evening
(just at sunset)
in Times Square.  NYNY

They danced together for a short while,
whirling past tourists and other ravenous beasts,
while the swan let loose a song of towering majesty.

I saw this myself
(this delicious pinpoint moment
in the space-time continuum)

with one eye fixed firmly on the truth,
the other eye on some kind of wonderful.


  1. written very quickly in response to a prompt on Poets United. Just don't ask...

  2. Oh, I do want to know more, it is intriguing :D

  3. Loved it. My daughter is always talking at me about Schroedinger's cat.

  4. And we are each merely pinpoints in moments in time without end. Kind of wonderful, when you think about it.