Monday, 1 March 2021

Infinity

There are halls of

mirrors, sometimes


people are like

paper dolls.


The ones that played

with me in childhood,


careful shapes

with scissors,


and coloured

in dresses.


Nor I in 3D, in my

mind sometimes.


One theory of existence is

we are holograms.


Or maybe life is a

blinking in and out,


as with breathing,

but faster than


the speed of light.


Poem: Marie Craven

Image: Michael Gaida, Pixabay PD


Infinity