It is
as long as a staple
the width of a belly button,
radius of a US penny
A world away from the last push, a breath and a gasp from an explosion of light and life in a newborn’s cry
The tiny gap between crossing the finish line first, bursting through the ribbon to be adorned with gold and everlasting glory or perpetual regret
The last grinding push to victory…a pin to the mat, winning jump or throw, shot in the goal
Surviving an accident
just one tiny fraction more and that would be it
The space to close for a kiss
Difference between
surgery and there’s-nothing-we-can-do, a lump in the breast, agony or hope
whether you’ll get to see the faces of your children or the inside of a box
5 stages of grief or a trip to the playground
Joy or despair
I am
Haunted by the metric system
In the knowing.