Just Passing

Just passing, I spot you through the railings.

You don’t see me. Why should you?

Outside the gates, I am out of your orbit.

Break-time for Infants and first-year Juniors

and the playground is a microcosmos:

planets, asteroids, molecules, chromosomes.

Constellations swirling, a genetic whirlpool

Worlds within worlds. A Russian doll

of universes bursting at each seam.

Here and there, some semblance of order

as those who would benefit from rules

are already seeking to impose them.

Not yet having to make sense of it all

you are in tune with chaos, at its centre.

Third son lucky, at play, oblivious of railings.

I try and catch your eye. To no avail.

Wave goodbye anyway, and pocketing

my notebook, move on. Someday we must talk.