.
A breath leaves the sentences and does not come back
yet the old still remember something that they could say
.
but they know now that such things are no longer believed
and the young have fewer words
.
many of the things the words were about
no longer exist
.
the noun for standing in mist by a haunted tree
the verb for I
.
the children will not repeat
the phrases their parents speak
.
somebody has persuaded them
that it is better to say everything differently
.
so that they can be admired somewhere
farther and farther away
.
where nothing that is here is known
we have little to say to each other
.
we are wrong and dark
in the eyes of the new owners
.
the radio is incomprehensible
the day is glass
.
when there is a voice at the door it is foreign
everywhere instead of a name there is a lie
.
nobody has seen it happening
nobody remembers
.
this is what the words were made
to prophesy
.
here are the extinct feathers
here is the rain we saw
.
~ W.S. Merwin
from Migration
.
