the humblest
of things,
the hugeness
of every little life
must accrue.
In the space
of time it takes a tiny
must accrue.
In the space
of time it takes a tiny
shrew to blink her eye,
countless inchoate
ecosystems may improve—
or maybe
two far away
galaxies will collide
and implode
long before
their constellations'
names become known;
names become known;
and then, of course
there's you—taking yet
another step
laboriously away
laboriously away
from the home
where you started,
even though, like
counting to infinity,
you know
you can't get any
closer to the place
you mean to go.