On growing old, or mapping knowledge growth

Knowledge grows old Faster than you know —unknown Hang on Maps and poetry Wordsworth had a view Shakespeare, too, of Things wrinkling Where Would you If you could Make a point1 Draw the lines If this was your North Where Were the dragons you meant To have tamed I can still see their Feathers flutter about Muttering: let’s hope We swap perspectives I paint a ship on your wall And you a chart on mine Let’s grow old Together, pointing out These fault lines

1If you were given Where the Queen once dropped her handkerchief Your own Jerusalem

Mara-Daria Cojocaru