I'll write a name, one from long ago
Before the sad world insisted to know
Who kissed whom, whom missed who, and on which show,
Which channel, site, or which screen's soft glow
The spell was broken. The gathering rhymes
Say they'll trill in us in future times,
Who lighten the names exhumed from shadow.
I have this fledgling hope tied to a string,
Tethered to the sleeping, half-reaching wing
Of the phoenix in bright midwinter snow.
It's enough for both of us to know
Ourselves as those lit by the snow
And fire of our post-dinner desires,
Signatures of lives, enmeshed wires
Throbbing, brilliant, names from long ago.
Nathan Woods, editor/overlord