I mean
we are
to be
and be again
all over,

so many gone
Neanderthal
Denisovan
all gone
gone into us
far as they
we can be.

2.
So why am I
telling you this
you are younger
you know it better
than I remember so
why do I clamber
to tell you,
be near you,
your sleeve
my mountain?

3.
There is no argument
between us,
just a fold of fabric,
silk or soft as.
Can cloth count?

Ask the rabbis
whose deck we stand on—
they’ll tell you
the captain’s name
but I’ll name the ocean.

4.
I can almost remember
how it began,
speckled egg pale blue,
a fox running off,

and then the woods
all quiet, page in a book.
I can almost remember
before the machine.

The dithering silence
that worried us so, so
some of us spread our legs,
some touched wire to wire,
some hummed in the corner,
broke a window
and the machine began.

5.
So many have walked
through that door
or idled chatting
in the doorway,
laughing or doubting,
leaning on the frame.
And then went in.

6.
So many have become
what we are—
but who is this ‘we’
of whom one speaks?
Time
             to be again
and never know!
Blessed silence
between the loud strokes
of the blessed machine!
All about remembering
there is nothing to remember.

4 November 2020