On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star
would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons.
The equivalent weight of how much railway
it would take to get a third of the way to the sun.
It’s the collective weight of every animal
on earth. Times three.
Six billion tons sounds impossible
until I consider how it is to swallow grief—
just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed
a neutron star. How dense it is,
how it carries inside it the memory of collapse.
How difficult it is to move then.
How impossible to believe that anything
could lift that weight.
There are many reasons to treat each other
with great tenderness. One is
the sheer miracle that we are here together
on a planet surrounded by dying stars.
One is that we cannot see what
anyone else has swallowed.
This was perfect for me today. Thank you.
thank you so much for letting me know … strength and grace to you.
from Dayton, Ohio, thank you ♥️
thank YOU … wishing you grace
Beautiful. This is such a wonderful thought to carry with me each day.
Ruby, thank you. Many hugs to you
I’ve lived it, and you’ve said it….wow…what a gift! Thank you, Rosemerry.
Carol, thank you … yeah, I have lived on both sides of it. xo
I brought this poem to my poetry workshop group for our session on poems we admire. We read each poem twice, then call out lines we love. The process elevates any poem, but oh my, it let this one shine even brighter.
(My science nerd side always wants to shoehorn interesting findings into poetry but it’s not easily done. In this and other pieces, you make it seem effortless!)
that makes me soooo happy. I know how muchI love reading poems aloud twice all the time … and I love thinking of it happening to one that I wrote! it just has a way of making the poem more alive, more accessible. Thanks for the nice note about the science/poetry blend. I have been having so much fun combining the two!