i.
Again with these nights
like oceans
they come in fast
and strong—
it’s easy to forget
just how much
of this earth
is coastline—
roughly the same
distance
as from here
to the moon.
ii.
Distance first
is cruel,
and then kind,
and then necessary—
our closest star is
alpha Centauri,
and it isn’t even a star,
but two,
a visual binary,
close, at 23 AUs,
or 3,440,751,030 km,
so take that as you will.
iii.
Everything is mostly
empty space,
99.999999999999%
or so of each atom
that makes us up,
and maybe that’s why
we tend to fill
our time
then top it off
with complaints
that there’s never
enough—
iv.
Or, a void
is tough work.
v.
There’s chemistry
or alchemy at play,
loneliness a liquid,
freedom a gas—
it’s hard to say
how solids
come in, except
that it’s all a phase,
nothing stays
or lasts
vi.
but so much
expands
to fill a space,
and it’s not
that nothing’s left,
it’s just so far
apart that only
from a distance
do things ever
still seem whole
vii.
But backing up,
things slip
from our grasp—
the moon
is illuminating
the air outside,
and to see is to know,
and to know
is roughly
equal parts gain
and loss
OPTIONAL POETRY 
99.999999% beautiful!!
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Thank you!!
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this was a masterful twist and turn through the long, empty night; excellent
I sometimes tease my pupils at school stating that humans are so thick that – given they are 99% space between each atom – why can’t they align all that space with the space of the atoms of a wall, and walk through it; why on earth did we have to invent doors (… walls, buildings … anything)?
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Thank you! It’s funny how being thick or dense is insulting, actually
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I think reading this poem is a lot like walking through a wall without quite realizing it…and then not being sure you can go back, or want to.
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Thanks! It’s hard to leave when you can’t find the door? 🙂
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Wonderful!
“loneliness a liquid,
freedom a gas”
The whole of it, basically. Wow!
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🙂 thanks for stopping by!
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