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How to Arrive

by Julia Chiapella


Will we be welcomed, asked the boy,

when everything around us has stopped,

when we are still and the sound

of us grows larger, larger than trees,

larger than sky, larger than wind?

I don't know, said the man. Will you

remember to ask me later? Ask me

when you're tall and I no longer am.

Ask me when the hurry has run

out of you and you sit, silent,

trading your memories for mine.

We might be in a room. We might

be on a mountain. One day, we'll

gather and these questions will

return, wealth that folds itself into

where we've already been.