| Two Poems by Jennifer Gresham | ||
To End All Wars His ancestors called softly at first, but grew in urgency over the years, anxious to see completed what they began— And so thou will call thunder and destruction if thou know the art. He knew he could find it, how to make atoms dance in the grand ballroom of collision, chandelier bright— these were the musings burning in Oppenheimer's head a rhythm quite clear quick, slow, quick, quick, slow metronome for devastation, a faint ticking to make the night appear mysteriously high noon. Can it be this simple? When one war ends, another begins. This is what he knew best, eyes full of ash, the rising sun eclipsed. How hollow are the refrains of discovery when one has become death, destroyer of worlds. Building the Periodic Table Many imagine it was like a jigsaw— but no, it was more like cataloging a collection of rare, exotic birds: examining how the plumage of beryllium resembled magnesium, the curve of the wing, the clutch of their feet on prey. Mendeleev was a serious man, never jumped from the path of a black cat. But the ones who eluded him— the ghosts of empty squares, the unnamed children lost in the deep woods— it was almost too much. What kept him going on those nights when rain fell like mercury in the dark, when the wind threatened to blow the lantern out, were all the ones placed correctly fireflies alive in the jar.
JENNIFER GRESHAM is a chemistry instructor at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Her poems have appeared in online and print journals such as Blood and Fire Review, Plainsongs, Gecko, The Open Bone, Mobius and others. |