Wednesday, December 14, 2022


When they tell you 
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?