by Aron C. Wall
We used to think it was about individual particles,
and that the measuring apparatus was the same as before.
Then the War began, and it became personal;
each of us needing to roll dice,
and consult the railway tables,
To see what new home could become our destination;
or whether, if we could stay, home would remain home.
Some of us—secretly, but entangled with the rest—
dropped the sun on our new-home's enemies.
These histories decohere,
but you can still see the glimmer in each raindrop,
winking and saying:
“You won't believe it,
not even if someone tells you,
but life is quantum, not classical.”
—Holy Saturday, 2017