Here I am, reading about Galileo,
his gradual realization that physical laws
are the same in all inertial systems,
and thinking to myself, this is Relativity,
300 years before Einstein, and suddenly
wishing you were here to tell about it,
when a down feather floated by,
sprung free from the shell of my parka,
drifting on the merest gesture of air
like a moon around a planet,
both spinning madly around a star
in a universe where no man
can be at the center of things,
or every man can be, or woman,
it’s all the same, like the time
we sat together and the day turned
to night without my noticing anything
more profound than the beauty
of your smiling face under a streetlamp.


Published by

Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner

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