Sealant

There’s a cavity, a pocket, a gap,
Where all the complicated lives go on,
Where the most grotesque and intricate live.

The village in the swamp, bacteria
Under the gum line, bats back of the cave,
The entangled roots of the forest floor—

Their openings, mostly, close smoothly
Over such exquisite situations,
A smile, a simple gate, a limestone wall.

You have to feel the caries are truer,
And don’t doubt what’s underneath is richer,
But there’s some significance to that wall,

Not only to what it covers over
Nor to the fact there is a covering
But smoothness with a secret isn’t smooth.