What Day and Night Think About You

They don’t. You presume that they don’t,
Not as entities, which they aren’t.
They’re names for rhythmically changing

Aspects of how your world changes,
Convenient as units of time
Within your species’ abstractions,

But part of the pulse of all lives
From tiny prokaryotic cells
To vast superorganisms.

Sometimes it’s day. Sometime’s it’s night.
There is no day. There is no night.
They’re not beings in their own right

So much as current conditions
Differing so regularly
They’re confused with their stable names,

But as names, night and day might well
Think about you. Maybe not, but,
Without them, you can’t think yourself.