BETWEEN
each flake of snow
is a vastness so great that
10,000 suns could not begin
to fill it.
Seventeen
Universes move between
each drop of rain. And
in each drop
1,000 more. So
said Carl Sagan
a week before he died.
And he didn’t
flinch. What
is death but a re-
arrangement of sub-
atomic particles or
wavelets if you prefer.
Between / Within
each tiny brothel of dust
implodes a neutron star.
(Blake’s Universe in a
grain of sand.) And
death? A child’s cry
before the darkness
hiding
light.
—from Rattle #10, Winter 1998
__________
Charles Owen Lawson: “All poets, I believe, are scientists in disguise.”
