“In quantum physics the observer alters the observed.
Reality is a fast choreography of photons.”
In human light,
I observe
a quarreling couple; they see me.
Hushed, they back away into shadow.
I observe lovers.
They see me;
she puts her blouse in proper order.
Does bearing witness reveal a truth seen,
or a truth created?
While I'm standing on a street corner,
what cosmic events are changed
by my meddling eyes?
Do I end a tryst, or begin one,
prevent a crime or cause one somewhere else?
Do feet standing on a crossroad detour the path of an ant?
Even the truth-seeking hermit needs to be watched by curious eyes.
Why else does he bother avoiding them?
How long can I gaze into a mirror
and resist fixing even an out of place hair?
How long can I accept what I see,
when what faces me grows older,
and slowly decays?
