Whirlybird
 
There is no symbolic figure comprehensive or tall enough to contain each errant cloud. This becomes a problem when faced with a feast of exoplanets with changeable atmospheres.
 
I could fall back on a melted-face skeleton with a farm supply store scythe, or a bureaucrat from human resources who keeps checking a smart phone during the exit interview.
 
The green and blue of Earth’s visible radiation spectrum says, “look at me!” Red maple tree seeds whirlybird their way into my heart.
 
RK [ 7/17/22]
 
 
 
E.A.P.
 
Everything devolves into the interior of my physical body. Here is the implication of distant galaxies contrasted with forest fires scorching Earth’s surface. The cosmological constant is a beautiful equation ,and the radio telescopes are silent.
 
Social media connections are sub-par, postage stamp prices keep rising, and entire forests are chipped into toilet paper. The statistic of eight billion humans is barely depleted by four hundred
fifth-six thousand annual murders.
 
Poe was prescient in equating a raven with death, here at the edge of the known universe
 
[RK, 7/20/22]