Let Us Compare Mythologies
¶ 1
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What happened here today
will turn into mythology,
and in the melancholy air
of some misty Saturday,
the whistle now blowing
will become a symbol
of something precious lost.
¶ 2
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There will be an adjustment
of hopes; folklore and old songs
will fuse together,
and be retold as
dim recollections,
bleak consolations
for the dark days ahead.
¶ 3
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See, someone will say,
it’s almost visible:
the scuff of grass
where he placed the ball-
the brief union
of boot and history,
shooting into immortality.
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