The Uncurling

I had thought they were
telling a story about you

but then I catch my name

and know that now

this is a story about me.

It's just another story anyway. 

It seems there are only seven,

or eleven, or several hundred

with thin differences in place,

in time, detail, and mystery.

I grieved all the dead kittens

lying on the highway until 

you told me they were raccoons--

animals with no human family. Oh. 

So we recognize the incognizable--

is that even possible? I mean.

_