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)