Dark Matter
Why, is a question
I’ve never found the answer to.
We do not even know why the galaxies
are flying apart instead of collapsing
down gravity wells.
My grandfather, who died in the time I was conceived,
he was a farmer, a wheelwright, a tailor,
could mend shoes.
He was a god-fearing, hard-fisted man.
I am his grandson.
Show me the equation for that.
Tell me, even, how many blackboards you would need.
- © Jim Conwell 2021
Jim Conwell ’s parents were economic migrants from the rural west of Ireland and he was born, and has lived most of this life, in various parts of London. He currently has had poems published in many magazines including The Ogham Stone, The Pangolin Review, The Seventh Quarry, The SHOp, The Stray Branch, Turbulence and Uneven Floor, He has had two poems shortlisted in the Bridport Poetry Prize and has work published in two anthologies.
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