Black-Capped Night Heron
When I was younger, I loved chaos physics, a ripple in the Andes causing
something or other in Toledo, I'm not sure whether Ohio or Spain. The
uncertainty principle meant that I could make a mark, not just be one.
Then I, too, caught on: left to themselves, all bodies fall through
space at the same constant speed. I thought, be suave. I started by
matching the pace of elevators I was riding in. I've almost matched
my coffee maker I flip the switch, putter around, then come back
just as it's burping its last steamy clanks. Someday I'll reach harmony,
utopia. Which means nowhere. Which, according to the principle
of the conservation of energy, means I will be unconfined. I will be
more. I've a way to go yet. I still get winded, and yesterday I
walked up a moving escalator because I was in a hurry to get Fred Astaire's
Swingtime, though the store already had it on hold for me.