Pondering Walden. For my son Nathan. A Poem

Happy Birthday Nathan. I am so thankful you exist.

Gerald the Writer

We live close to the 42nd parallel.
Hitch-hiking isn’t necessary.
My son and I could walk
to the answer of the universe.

This orb wrapped and warped
in time zones in which
we are set in the illusion
of stop motion frames.

Nothing ever stops.
The rain pelts and the planets
carousel the egotistical sun.
We are under it half as much.

Is Greenland’s melted ice
coming down and overflowing
our pond’s aperture?
Such a small lens it is.

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