for David
An object in motion will remain in motion unless
acted upon by an external and unbalanced force.
—Sir Isaac Newton, Principia mathematica
A car at a red octagon sign, spaced from pedestrian feet.
The gas pump when the handle clicks, signaling the tank is full.
A microwave at the sound of repeated beep.
A cassette tape after the film fully loops the opposite spool.
The pre-heating oven that reached the degree from
Granny Stella’s recipe.
My level of care for hearing Aunt Leah’s “back in her day” story again.
A ballerina’s spinning pirouettes once the music box’s
tune has ceased.
The Ferris wheel gondola when I’ve reached the top meridian—
The chorus of birds at 5 am outside my bedroom window
during wintertime.
The alarm clock beep I switch off, not snooze, so the bus commute
I don’t miss.
The drip from the Keurig once my morning Caribou blend fills to
the brew line.
The toilet water rising after swirling to a who-knows-where
septic abyss . . .
The flood of texts after what I find out later as bad news;
For, what I didn’t expect to stop, was You.
