will not resemble the sky.
The new poem will not mention
the dirt on your hands
or systems to describe
what we once saw as the weather.
The new poem will not divest you
of your sorrows or believe in
a sincerity made by an order of words.
The new poem will not sound like the woods
or provide a sense of wonder.
The new poem will not coordinate
a truth or unite your mystical opposites.
The new poem will not console
your children's children's children
or prepare you for what was once
considered the future.
It will not resemble the sky.
It will not be able to save you.

after Charles Wright