THAT UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE

Silver fish swim on our kitchen floor
their motion
a suspicion
of swishing scales
of turning tides
of warm and cold air
of tails flicking
of voyages
to a subterranean depth
of space between
wall and floor.

The light fixes them
for a moment
holds them fast
-assuredly there now
like commas
or fat dashes
- holding their breath
then dissolving
with a click of a switch
back into dark
and something
less certain.


NOTES
Silver fish are indicators of damp, and although we had our house damp-proofed when we moved in twenty years ago (and all the walls replastered) we still seem to have a thriving colony. Hodmandod Senior thinks this is because of the gap between our new skirting board and the floor, which gives them an ideal place to hide. I think it is just because the house is still a bit damp.

However silver fish are harmless, apparently, so we just let them be. We see them mainly when we switch on the light in the night, and it is a bit like when the music stops in that children's party game - they stop still where they are, as if by remaining motionless no one will see them.

It struck me the other evening that this behaviour reminds me of something I learnt a very long time ago - Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle - that idea that position and movement of a particle cannot be ascertained at the same time - if you know one, you can't know the other. So it is only when the light is on that I know the silver fish's position - and only when the light is off do I know that it moves.

This seems to me to be an ideal basis for a poem, so I've had a go at one for Poetry Thursday. I've been reading about this on various people's blogs now, but notably Chiefbiscuit's, Susannah's and Sarah's.