Tuesday - World
The World in a Carpet From my bed I can see written in the carpet The lines I leave traced along my pathways Telling all who see, well, I need to vacuum And the normal boundaries and routines The world through which I walk each day I go from here to there and there over Chasing a life of meaning through concrete structures Wondering how soon it will all be forgotten As nature continues her unending cycle Life and death and life and death and on Each part totally ordinary, made of the same carbon chains Variations on a theme of chemistry Each part different from the rest The chances! The probability remains insane Each inch a pattern of latent pathways I just wrote a poem about carpet. Sometimes I wonder at myself. I said in the beginning, some would be good, and some would be questionable. I think we know where this one lies along that spectrum.