there's nothing
more you can do;
when they take you out
into the hall
just to sit you back down
and say
all is lost;
when you find
you've inherited only
the goneness,
the shape of oblivion,
the complete lack
of trust,
and that everything
and everyone you'd thought of
as precious
will wind up
as ashes,
as sediment,
as dust—that's when
it is best
not to wince
or raise your voice
in protest.
You must keep still
in order to
gather all your strength
and focus on the clarion
sound of your voice
as you hear it say,
incredibly: Okay. So,
what's next?
