“Quarks” by Nellie Cox


The jar of marbles spilled on the oak floor
the day you died.

Cat Eyes and Frosted Rainbows
rolled into dusty corners under the couch.

How could I possibly find them all?

It took months to notice Octopus and Owl
(little glass orbs hide quietly).

A Galaxy pressed into instep conjured a grimace as
each discovered sphere revealed a stray universe.

And when enough were gathered
I met him in a lowlit pub for hummus and IPAs.

His fair hands were clasped carefully on the table
and his glasses revealed two Tidal Waves.


Nellie Cox writes poems. She lives in Georgia with her devastatingly charming husband, three weird children, and neurotic Havanese named Daisy.