Saturday, May 20, 2017

Schrodinger's Wife

The first time Galileo’s figures came out wrong—or right—
the morning after that first night when the truth
in planetary orbits he has tracked across the sky for months
dawns on him like the irresistible phases of the moon
so that walking out the door and into the bustling marketplace
the very earth shifts beneath his feet, he can no longer look his neighbors
in the eye, and there seems no place to hide
from the sun—something like that.  I know,

I know: wave-particle duality; the bending of space and time; uncertainty.
Still, I was not entirely naïve, having dealt in due course with both gravity
and God, so how did I not see it coming—more,
how did I not imagine, knowing my own perfidious, quantum soul
that you would have it in you, too?  And how futile my wish
to know your position and your speed—only a fool would ask
so much.  As it turns out, not only had others observed you leaving
your hypothetical box, but they will swear you were happy, and not alone.

(Green Mountains Review, 2005)

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