Attenuation
The atoms of my body strewn across interstellar space like nanoscopic bread crumbs, their line traceable only by gods, their shape a doodle in an incomprehensibly greater mind (said he who was made of meat), their nuclear vibration a serenade to the stars: I was. I, and a blade of grass, and a crow, and a patch of moss on a glacial boulder in a drumlin, and a hornet, and a sod of turf, burning in an Iron Age stove of stone. We will hum together, and the stars will listen, because they know they are also dying.
122
