by Beate Sigriddaughter

You may forget but
let me tell you this:
someone in some future time will think of us

                                                       - Sappho

I am grateful to the hands
that snatched the small remaining
fragments from the blazing library
in Alexandria

I am grateful to the many hands
including mine that copied
words into this future now

you cannot simply burn the past
and expect it to stay burned forever

it lives like the memory of reptiles
crawling to land to breathe
for the first time air

it lives like this one in a garland
of poets climbing to breathe
astonished for the first time