Searching for my Zygote
Not among epithelial cells,
like blood cells they're the body's mayflies
transient amid the bones.
But even bone cells die.
It's their calcium that survives the body's dissolution.
Nothing so low as colon cells
condemned to a lifetime of conducting excrement.
A great injustice if it were a cardiac cell,
for then the grandfather of all cellular generations
would be a mere slave pumping blood to its progeny.
No, the zygote should be at the head of the table.
A neuron is an appropriate rank,
a wise old cell enthroned in the cerebral cortex.
But the brain is an offshoot of the nerve cord
and the cord an invagination of epithelial cells,
which are transient amid the bones.
I peer through the microscope as closely
as an astronomer does through his telescope.
I search for my zygote,
and the astronomer for the x, y, z coordinates of the big
Both of us search for the holy grail in some garden of Eden.
The astronomer merely counts stars.
And I merely count cells,
for my zygote spawned all its cellular creations
then vanished among the multitudes.
Everywhere, legions of orphaned progeny spin myths about
If you've any comments on this poem, Richard.Fein would be pleased
to hear from you.