Poets for Science
Global Gallery

Schrödinger’s Dog





He darts through the gates

I forgot to close,

in front of a car,

trying to stop.


I don’t see this happen

because I’m out the back

having a smoke

like a bad mum.


When I realise he’s gone,

I think of that cat

in its little box,

both dead and alive,

until it’s seen.


But as he strolls

around the corner

unscathed, tail wagging,

I don’t feel joy he’s alive,

knowing what happened

on the other side.