As summer unfolds the scent of dusty roads urges us to roam the succulent fig the crimson mulberry overcome the mother’s call to scurry back for dinner
Instead, we scatter like sheaf thrown to the wind and there is nobody but us in this unraveling earth for we are ones of a kind
When winter comes frost kisses with its lips the sills of our windows its curling fingers grips the air without a touch
Then, we slouch back and huddle like a flock of penguins in the Antarctic seeping heat one onto another waddling in circles flowing as a whole a collective race
From without inwards from within back out we are together, and apart
11th installment in the series of poems inspired by physics (see first installment for background). For more information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spinodal_decomposition (the introduction enough).