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Sharks' Teeth

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Everything contains some   
silence. Noise gets
its zest from the
small shark's-tooth
shaped fragments
of rest angled
in it. An hour   
of city holds maybe   
a minute of these   
remnants of a time   
when silence reigned,   
compact and dangerous   
as a shark. Sometimes   
a bit of a tail   
or fin can still   
be sensed in parks.

Source: Poetry

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This poem originally appeared in the April 2004 issue of Poetry magazine

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Sharks' Teeth

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