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Zarah Alam

You, sepia-stained monolith,
All too happy to escape the pen
of history. Your absence has forced

Me to hunt you down, no paper trail
No passport, only whispers that you’re
That way, round the corner, down the stairs,

Look up. This journey takes me to dark
Places, my flashlight shines shadows,
I hear you clamber behind them.
You’re playing with me. You know

I cannot reach you, yet
I enlist a team to help me play
This game of dinosaur and man.

When I do find your bones,
And I promise you I will,
I hope I guess the right shade of your feathers

And the way you might have said my name.