The Center of My Universe

21 Feb

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The Center of My Universe

by L. Stewart Marsden

Not sure where the center of my universe is
anymore.
It used to be over there, where you are
Or,
over there,
where you were.

Before that it was a bubble,
round and glistening
with reflected sky and landscape;
its skin so thin . . .

Blown about on the wind
until it — ping! —
popped
and dropped to the floor —
a mere wet spot of what it was.

I daren’t take that center spot,
it’s got me into tangled webs —
the sort that stick — hard to rid.

Perhaps I’ll risk a centerless universe for a while
and see if it’s more my style
as I wile my way toward the end.

At which point, I wonder if the center will appear.
But, you, Dear,
are no longer that.

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