Erasure
We alone see our beauty.
All else is unmoved
and relentless in its indifference.
We alone pity us and the pity is
that that is not enough
to shelter us from our time's end.
What we imagine is irrelevant
as the bits that spun us into consciousness
accelerate and scatter.
All else is unmoved
and relentless in its indifference.
We alone pity us and the pity is
that that is not enough
to shelter us from our time's end.
What we imagine is irrelevant
as the bits that spun us into consciousness
accelerate and scatter.
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Author's Note
Overheard at the cosmologists' bar.
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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*
Good piece. *
Made me think of the spiral galaxies spinning. Beautiful!
Which is why some of us write. *
"All else is unmoved
and relentless in its indifference." ***
Pretty deep stuff.
really like this sentence and the way it feels when you say it: "accelerate and scatter".
Makes me feel even more insignificant.*
"Overheard at the cosmologists' bar."
Ha!
Agree with Jules.
"the bits that spun us into consciousness"
Nice. *
Yes, indeed. That's why we make up stories. *