The Saturday poem: The First Song

by Thomas Lux

was sung after the first stone was thrown at a beast,

after a spear in a mans hand

brought down a pile of meat.

Of course we sang of that!

We hardly had a language and we sang.

We sang the stories, which turned into better stories,

which is why stories are told

and told again. Then, when we had more time

and bellies full enough with food,

we sang of love. But it began

with stones and sharpened sticks,

then sharpened sticks hardened

in fire.

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