An Unfurling Petal in May

Oneness only exists from a distance,
A figment of the calculus of photons
Destablizing the angular
Momentum in rods and cones of our eyes.
This doesn’t mean you must, nor even can,
Trust the photographer’s intimate
Portrait of a bright bee precarious
On an unfurling petal late in May.
No, what we really see is January
Midnight snowstorms in the inverted
Cones of headlights; a cigarette glowing
In the rearview mirror while the radio
Murmurs static, and snowflakes become
Stars veering apart in the far cold dark.

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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