Drawn

Every insight, right or wrong,

Emerges as conclusion.

You pour puréed tobacco

Leaves diseased with mosaic

Through a thick porcelain filter,

Pores even bacteria

Are too thick to wriggle through,

So you know the clear liquid

On the far side’s free of them,

Then pour that over more leaves—

Healthy, green ones—watch them die.

Conclusion? There’s a factor

In the clear liquid, unseen,

Smaller than bacteria,

That transferred the infection.

Name this toxin a virus,

Active by implication,

A new field of medicine,

Christened 1898.

You saw—not what seemed to be—

You saw something seems could mean,

Possibly significant,

And you took out your language

To draw a new conclusion.