A half-blink of time’s great eye, are we,
He said – Drops in the ocean, fish drowned in air
Great truths, tragedies, and the human tradition,
The condition of centuries and seconds.

What am I in a long slow rush of dust and smoke,
A world of fish and plants,
Of Darwin’s apes?
The barest reflection of a star
Brief blink glinting off the retina, and what am I
Among the steady, planned reach of all these years?

Water drunk on dry earth
Makes its perilous way through dirt;
And clouds bleed under a billions-year-old sun –
“Alive” is relative. Tiny writhing cells
Wear the wonders of the world and all their functions –
I’ve been cheated, I have even less intelligence than organs.

Dead leaves flicked from their lifecords
And rust, and rain – what am I?
Gulped by unused time – what am I?
Amidst all of these – he said –
Nothing.