when Gilbert died 

the window shook

the sky domed inward,
and all that was colour
became black
 
there was a silence–
the type found in a vast
unfathomable vacuum
 
was this death
or did we miss 
(with our blindness)
the folding of our universe?
 
on a blackboard 
somewhere north of Zurich
is a series of formulae…
 
could the universe
really fold in on itself
eight times?
 
maybe the answer
was held in the chalked
-out numbers?
 
maybe the math of it all
was just too impossible?
 
one thing’s for sure
Gilbert will never know.
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

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