Matter Poem by Wyn Cooper
Matter
Quantum Theory baffles me
as I ski across this field.
I raise my arms and let the wind
wave me toward oblivion.
Birch trees bend west
as I try to go east.
Forces of good show themselves
as apples in my mailbox.
A ghost from the past
tells me to follow your voice.
It echoes into a canyon
where I once lived badly.
Your atoms make matter matter.
Don't apologize for that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 12:26:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
