There’s a place like here
in every mark but every mark
has a different meaning there.
The here words are not the there word’s
opposites, just different—though some are.
The here letter of condolence sums up
the there theatrical interlude. The here sweeping
oratory is the there crooning pacifier.
Sacred words here—orthodontics there.
Love poems here—service manuals there.
Our names?—verbs, adjectives, maybe
just nonsense sounds in nurseries.
I know this because everyone I know
here has been there. We’ve all seen
them—from there—here, instantly here
for an instant or a minute,
staring in confusion, then gone.
We, staying, stare in confusion.
It seems some stay, switching out
their here counterparts lives. Our wives,
our husbands, our neighbors, our children,
our neighbor’s children. Sometimes
whole stores or crowded streets.
Who are you? we ask or they ask.
No comments:
Post a Comment