Triptych (For Adam) Poem by Jacqui Thewless

Why do we require
conspicuous reminders
of the singular -

objets d’art, like these -
each more or less uniquely
invaluable?

Is it because we -
controversial, as they are
peerless and solo –

have no more vocal
key-notes with which to address
our forgetfulness?

The triptych is not
different in this respect
for a hidden self

mostly neglected.
Not once, but thrice told; over
and over again:

no one is the same.
We have in common this much:
no more, and not less.