A Brief Consideration of Physics

Has she finally hit bottom,
the low point in life’s long arc?
On the passing faces of strangers,
she traces the pendulum sweep of time,
the slow decline out of her hands
and in her chest, the murmur.

Listen, it warns. Not yet.
If she asks When,
it is silent.

Pandora feels dry as last year’s leaves,
brittle as an old bone,
and more than a little skittish
not knowing when the world will wise up,
whether instead the gods will get itchy.

First, they sent the great deluge
draining clouds as dark as gravel,
rain sweeping people and sheep away.
Even the lambs. That sadness turned
into a stone she tries to swallow.

Don’t worry,
says the whisper.
Then, Watch out.

She braces for the worst
or the sudden ascent.