Fable

By Louise Gluck

We had, each of us, a set of wishes.

the number changed. And what we wished –

That changed also. Because

we had, all of us, such different dreams.

The wishes were all different, the hopes all different.

And the disasters and catastrophes, always different.

In great waves they left the earth,

even the one that is always wasted.

Waves of despair, waves of hopeless longing and heartache.

Waves of the mysterious wild hungers of youth, the dreams of childhood.

Detailed, urgent; once in a while, selfless.

All different, except of course

the wish to go back. Inevitably

last or first, repeated

over and over –

So the echo lingered. And the wish

held us and tormented us

though we knew in our own bodies

it was never granted.

We knew, and on dark nights, we acknowledged this.

How sweet the night became then,

once the wish released us,

how utterly silent.