Haunted, they say, believing
the soft, shifty
dunes are made up
of false promises.
Many believe
whatever happens
is the other half
of a conversation.
Many whisper
white lies
to the dead.
"The boys are doing really well."
Some think
nothing is so
until it has been witnessed.
They believe
the bits are iffy;
the forces that bind them,
absolute.
Source: Poetry (June 2008).
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This poem originally appeared in the June 2008 issue of Poetry magazine
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