Quantum entanglement

Scientists shoot lasers at vacuum-sealed particles
and learn that when my friend dies on the floor
of a public restroom in a New York pizzeria,
I feel it too, lying on the linoleum in my kitchen,
halfway around the world.        I could have told them
that from 14,000 feet clouds look like ocean,
yet make Earth the size of an electron,
and we are infinitesimal.          I could have told them
that I’m Schrödinger’s cat, both dead and alive,
praying to who I was yesterday & who I’ll be tomorrow.
How my eyes hold galaxies & I am multitudes.          How
time suspends when a leaf wavers in the air.              How
sunlight catches on dust.                                           Somehow
I bury my unborn child in a grave, the universe collapses,
& a lily wilts in a vase on my dining room table.