July 4th 2012, or What the Discovery of a Higgs’ Boson Means to Me

By Maureen Donatelli

Just think of all that’s going on
in the dark matter
above your head
between the unfathomable vastness of galaxies
or here all around you in this small box kitchen
between you and the walls, the white paint on the walls
the stove, the sink with its dim drain
even passing through you
inside you
inside each atom of oxygen
holding oxygen to you
holding you to oxygen
the measured mystery of gravity

surges like oceans
of light and light’s absence
and radiation

of specks
smaller than anything
could possibly be small;
we are permeable
as air to it all

our cells
in perpetual decay and collapse
atoms, molecules, mass formed, reformed
phenomena retold
as when we are looked at
in a time perilous
by one who loves us
brimming with weakness
worry, despair

in an instant, a rendered namelessness
like Lot’s wife
transformed into a pillar of salt
ions compounded
dismantled by solar winds
Lot’s wife turned into the absence
of Lot’s wife
her darkness held fierce by particles of darkness, entropy
sistered with Eurydice, Inanna, Persephone
multiverse of the missing
each lending mass and name to a kind of storied and phantom brilliance.

Copyright 2012, Maureen Donatelli

About the Author

Maureen Donatelli lives in Abbotsford, BC where she received her BA in English from The University of the Fraser Valley many, many moons ago. Besides all things poetic, Maureen loves being with her kids, photography, and sleeping. Her work has appeared in several online publications including Cirque, Connotation Press, Yes Poetry, vox poetica, OVS, and Willows Wept Review.

Tell Maureen what you thought of her poem!

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