Real animal.

Then--as now,

You would have heard it drag its limp along,
Barely ahead of its own shadow

The hobbled pace gave way to
Tumbling, invisibly,

As the music of disappearance disappeared.

If in a book it corresponded to a name, an illustration,
A theory of origin at least we might know

What next. Now it emerges

So stunningly unknown that anything short of
Attack must be irresponsible

Or, in allowing such attacks, irresponsibly patient.