On the Cusp of Nuclear War

Poetry

Photo by Kevin Schmid on Unsplash

For much of the world,
our lives will not change.
And this itself, is the danger.

Tolstoy spoke of inevitability,
the nature of power
as a cascading wave of action,

millions of tiny movements
that history aggregates
behind the red curtain of genius

in order to explain a war.
We like to believe we are free
to choose our own future,

but no choice is ever unlimited.
No person has a hand
in where their eyes first measure light.

Even now, there is happiness
in the smallest of glances,
oblivious to the coordinates

held in check by breaths.
The world is bigger than me,
and yet, this body

seems to hold a billion threads
tied to invisible wings,
so I’m almost convinced

my feet never touch the ground.

Another poem for Ukraine is here.