Poem #181
Earth #3
We would call it flying,
but the Neutrino is still.
It watches the universe—
spinning around in a frozen blur,
everything that ever lived,
pandas and dinosaurs and plague,
pass all at once and forever—
it doesn’t feel a thing.
Earth #3
We would call it flying,
but the Neutrino is still.
It watches the universe—
spinning around in a frozen blur,
everything that ever lived,
pandas and dinosaurs and plague,
pass all at once and forever—
it doesn’t feel a thing.
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