Sheltering in Place in Shanghai
In this Shanghai apartment I’ve been waking before the birds. This morning the moon was an orange fingernail above the tiled rooftops. Time slows when you are alone. It slows even more when you are alone in the dark. Come the end, perception of time is all we’ll have had. There are microbes on the ocean floor who live on almost nothing, their metabolisms so slow that the millions of years they have been alive have felt to them quite fast. They missed the dinosaurs entirely, the way we might miss a movie’s run in the theater.
HADLEY AUSTIN is a poet and filmmaker currently moored in Chicago. Her written work has appeared in, amongst other places, Stirring, Tipton Poetry Journal, and The Antelope. Find her online at http://www.hadleyaustin.com