I'll Write a Name

Approaching The Cup

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.
But it is not enough for us to know
Ourselves as those lit by the snow
And fire of our post-dinner desires.
We have been called to those greater fires
That unite ours with names from long ago.