Gravity is formidable.
Apples fall, roll and stop.
Deer and squirrels have no clue about
Newton’s first law
but are thrilled all the same.
Oh, so slowly in our time,
less than a nanosecond
to the universe, the moon
slips towards a tryst with earth,
lovers toying with wreckage.
Through my windowpane
and reflected in my dresser mirror,
drooping branches, falling
leaves, flouting fruit flies,
and the faithless moon,
loosing the fight.
The weighty war to the victor.
As a teacher/administrator, Bett Willett worked with students from grade two through graduate school at one time or another. She has two grown children and lives with three cats, one of whom thinks she is a dog, and as Bett is never quite sure who she is either, they get along great. She has written blogs and newsletters. Bett received first place and honorable mention for poetry submissions and is published in The Poeming Pigeon, Mothers Always Writing, For Women Who Roar, the Naugatuck River Review, Mum Life Stories, and Black Fox Literary Magazine.
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