36: Impossible Things

(for my nephew)


No one knows how dinosaurs died.

There are theories, but we have no proof.

Do you think that’s why we give them voice,

give them feelings and a mission

when we turn their dust into TV shows

and use their feathers to write storybooks?

Is that why we can’t just let them go,

these unknowable, impossible things

—a whole species on which the earth cut its teeth—

while we wonder if we’re next?

I wish I had the words to explain to you

the weight of the burden of impossible things.

Things I do not know how to carry.

But I do know how to carry you.

You are not and will never be

an impossible thing.

And my love for you will never go extinct.

Even if my bones crush and my teeth bury,

do not make my love a cartoon of itself.

They find animals we thought gone, alive all the time

—heart beating, death defied.

Impossibly alive.


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