Monday, October 10, 2011


A brand new poem...

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