this twenty-first century morning makes me
a Roman meditating a thousand years ago
On the Nature of Things, a universe
without gods, made from very small particles,
eternal motion colliding, swerving in new directions.
This poem was inspired by reading The Swerve: How the World Became Modern. For a more in-depth version of my thoughts on all this, see “On the Nature of Things” on my Weekends in Paradelle blog.