Whenever light is dim, there is always
The sound of crows confabulating.

Mornings are different from evenings only
By old accidents of spin direction.

If all atoms were of reverse polarity,
The soles of our shoes would still grow thinner.

The blue sky would slide to and from red daily
As our eyes parsed relative angles of light.

In the distance, crows would continue
To display theories of pointilism.

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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