Familiar, well-worn homes and streets,
Staunch faces of the everyday
All bend a micron to the left
Or is it the observer whose sight twists?
And being now is as it's always been:
A slow drift of radiant dust,
Some light sift and shift in space:
Improbable, but here
Where you and I step forth
In our bright universe,
There is no other place:
We are the chosen race
Of gods, right here on earth,
And these days are the legendary days.
Paul Christian Stevens lives in Australia. He teaches literature, has published poems and prose in print and pixel, most recently or imminently in Mannequin Envy, The Barefoot Muse, Shakespeare's Monkey Revue, The Literary Bohemian, The HyperTexts, Goblin Fruit, New Verse News, Abyss & Apex, Umbrella, Lighten Up Online, Lucid Rhythms, Ourobouros Review, Innisfree, Snakeskin, Unlikely 2.0, Centrifugal Eye and The Raintown Review. He edits The Flea: www.the-flea.com.
