The city morphs
to match the tourist’s demands.
The atom vibrates
to dance with the investigator.
A snow globe swirls
sending sparkling flakes
around bright dulled landmarks
all at room temperatures.
The electron smiles
as its location is measured,
or is it smirking
of condescendence?
The tree grows
around older metal bars,
slowly replacing the original pillars,
wrought for support
and carrying the gravity
of celestial life.
Parents nourish children
and shield them from
crystals of water
and photons from the sun;
until the walls crack
the roof leaks,
the foundation tilts,
and the next generation
must reinforce, rebuild,
or start from spent soil.
-Robert L. Jackson III
