Monday Poem

Little Miracles 3:
A Quantum Angel Spinning-0ff Particles

I call you Quantum Angel
because you’re so unbelievable
not even physicists can pin you down,
the way you flit through atoms
you must have wings,
the way you punk time
your wings must be turbocharged,
the way you fling particles
we can’t keep up—
where do you get so many
tiny spinning things?
you must have a secret source
or you’re a maestro of illusion
a tall-tale provider, a teller
who tells in sparks and quarks
the most fundamental things
(mere things, almost)
in super hadron mist

Jim Culleny

Drawing: Quantum Angel
Jim C., 1997