The Resemblance of the Enzymes of Grasses to Those of Whales Is a Family Resemblance

This world, Whistle, there’s nothing for it,
what can we possibly say? Cumulus sails
and their endless blue ocean are a thin skin
when viewed from space. Back home
astronauts turn to drink or religion
to shield the eyes, to cloud the vision—
something was irreparable in the darkness
or the largeness or the smallness they saw.

Want to read more?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.