Faintest Ink

                                   "The faintest ink 
                                   is more powerful than 
                                   the strongest memory." 
                                          — Chinese Proverb
My faintest ink will its own memory
indelibly transcribe in absentee
reminders of a dream I'd tried to think
immune to fading. Words I've drowned out sink
in silence smudging visions I'll foresee. 

Not long from now, what's credited to me
will tangle up with indistinct debris
until it's all gone gray. These lips will drink
                                   my faintest ink. 

Yet I'll outlast my feeblest poetry
in fancy only. Words are always free
to take on new lives, whereas past lives shrink
to ghosts' remembrances, a casual blink
what might've come if I'd but chanced to be
                                   my faintest ink. 
                                          [posted for Sara as of date written]

1 Response to “Faintest Ink”

  1. 2013.06.04 at 12:25 pm

    This seems to have been her final complete rondeau. She loved the form almost as much as the sestina or the ovillejo or her triolets. She found its triangle to have a uniquely human feel. She left a lengthy draft of the rondeau chapter of what was to have been her book, together with several hundred rondeaus. I’ll post her completed ones here. As she wished, her unfinished ones will be completed by friends who she had been collaborating with during her final year. The ink of none of it will ever really go faint, dear Sara.

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