Memorial

There are many ways to inscribe 
names on surfaces—ink on sheepskin 

parchment, ink on paper pulped from the bark 
of mulberry trees. Farther back: wet clay, ivory, 

antlers and bone. Stone. The carving of letters 
to leave a mark, a trace. Bright days drawn 

with chalk, pigments scraped to smear 
with fingers the memory of the lost. 

For what are we but smoke and dust 
churned from one cruel season to the next, 

kissed then spurned, knighted then expelled? 
Write my name on something that will last 

more than a day—not to be immortal, 
but to have some of my history survive.