by John M. Ford
The worm drives helically through the wood
And does not know the dust left in the bore
Once made the table integral and good;
And suddenly the crystal hits the floor.
Electrons find their paths in subtle ways,
A massless eddy in a trail of smoke;
The names of lovers, light of other days
Perhaps you will not miss them. That’s the joke.
The universe winds down. That’s how it’s made.
But memory is everything to lose;
Although some of the colors have to fade,
Do not believe you’ll get the chance to choose.
Regret, by definition, comes too late;
Say what you mean. Bear witness. Iterate.
0 thoughts on “Against Entropy”
I’m as familiar as I should be with forms, but I love your “sonnet.” The rhyming feels natural, unforced. Your poem has a quaint or antique feel to it. Nice work.
*not* as familiar
Right. We typically don’t accept things like this, but once or twice a year we’ll get a rhyming poem and it’ll be good. It will read well, be thoughtful and improve the form. This poem does exactly that.