137.5
Symbolist poetry
A field of bruised ultraviolet light burns through me— a golden angle, spiraling. Have you ever returned to a place after a long absence and been surprised by all the changes? By the continuum of life moving with or without you? Especially without you. Relentless in its pursuit of process. Like when fossils get buried and history stacks itself in layers. When cities get swallowed by jungles and time crawls over everything, frozen. Forgets it. The past is forgotten— lost, largely unimportant. The future is abstract, uncertain, mystical. The present is a dot, a presence, a moment. It’s you.
Author’s Note
137.5 is about time’s steady, impersonal movement and how it passes over everything. Meaning isn’t found in the past or the future, but in small, repeatable actions in the present that compound into sustainability and direction.
“By the continuum of life
moving with or without you?
Especially without you.” ~ ❤️