Seven Hours Poem by J Sheba Anandhi

When her evening starts
His night falls,
When his morning starts
Her night falls,
Between her morning and evening
She works as a busy bee,
All day long not minding the timing
He spins like a frisbee,
Two entangled particles at each core
Separated by a time gap of seven hours,
When one particle sets up a status
The other lightens transmitting electrical hearts,
On the side where the sun rises later
The effect is more profound, the particle stirred,
Given this only means of communication
That comes with the spatial separation
One particle may still feel glad,
But without stating a lucid definition
It looks both mad and sad,
While the triggered illumination is all good
If only more words could be said,
The abstraction could be better understood.