Fixed Momentum

So you’ve woken again with the sun
burning and burning through thin curtains,
the blanket of night stolen from you,
its frayed embroidery of stars?

Morning is the crack we all fall through
back into the chasm of days.
We are born at a fixed momentum;
there is no escape velocity.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
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