Poetry

Distance

by Dennis Jones

The talk of light years
goes gently around the
table,
as though we’re talking
of a cross-town trip.

Red shift goes
with cayenne pepper.

But still
the talk of light speed
in such languid language
seems out of place.

The talk should be of glaciers
inching
down
ravines
or,
more precisely,
Continental Drift.

Inexorable shifting
undiscernibly

apart —

Not necessarily
in
one
lifetime