In winter, night falls faster—

as if in the same way the Greek philosopher  
suggested, believing the speed at which two  

objects fall is directly proportional  
to their weight and inversely  

proportional to the medium through which  
they plummet. In this, he may have been more  

poet than philosopher; surely, more than  
his famous mentor who in fact wished to turn

poets out of the city gates. In the late
1500s, a young mathematician dropped two

lead spheres of unequal weight from a tipping-
over tower, disproving common knowledge

then about gravity. How old this light,
which used to fall gold-gilded through 

the summer months, but now hides its face 
in the umbral hours; and how old our disquiet

from the speed with which the darkness  
could take us. The weight we bear or don't 

bear, traversing a forest of years.
Alluvial earth, monsoons. Does it matter 

we can't even pinpoint the actual cause 
of our distress? Our bodies move toward 

the same ground at more or less the same
speed: in one hand, a feather; in the other, 

that aggregate of fire and flickering; bright
gashes, lighthouse beams which we call a life.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.