Ken's Poetry

Something Small

An atom perhaps,
a strange quark,
a string, that needs
the foreign tongue
of mathematics
to be.

Exploding from birth
to a fat balloon,
resonating with an old
primeval drone,
thin as the universe within,
strutting through long
nanoseconds of life,
it takes hours to see
how small,
how miniscule,
till at the end ..
the big un-bang.

Shrunken thing.
Speck of dust.
Spark so insignificant
cold darkness kills.

Eternity is very small.