Museum

The pattern is only ever of animal success,

the cry of a real gathering

misheard and losing itself

toward the idea of a sound

which was not a blade.

We are unique only insofar as we have learned to sleep

in this sound, or in the idea of this sound,

only in so far as we imagine the pattern could be faded.

Our uniqueness, however, is all that really fades,

as certain cries cannot be tolerated, missing.

Copyright World Poetry, Incorporated May/Jun 1998
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved