Between light switch flick
and the snuffing of filament,
between nuclear fission
and the seven minute’s distance
from sun to reflection to brain.
In the agonizing space
between question and answer
to the man propped on one knee.
Between EKG beeps,
between breathes, between
conception and decomposition,
between the geologic scale
and the cosmic one. In
the indeterminable time
from arbitrary start
and sudden, inevitable, perhaps
even cataclysmic conclusion.
Zebulon Huset is a teacher, writer and photographer living in San Diego. He won the Gulf Stream 2020 Summer Poetry Contest and his writing has appeared in Meridian, The Southern Review, Fence, Atlanta Review, & Texas Review, among others. He publishes the writing blog Notebooking Daily, edits the journal Coastal Shelf, and recommends literary journals at TheSubmissionWizard.com.
نرح بد بك
LikeLike
“In the agonizing space
between question and answer”
Love it!! Rock on, Zebulon 🙂 🙂
LikeLike