Song for Ludmilla

I met ten nights in Cuba
They were looking for us
So were several old queens and kings
And little rodents in spiral nests

They are all waiting for us
We, who might never be there,

They would want us to touch the frigid glow
Of a cold evening in Paris
Or drown ourselves in advertising signs
In memory of poems forgotten

They would like it too (I think)
To hear a song in our gusty unison
From voices trained in gin and beer
Or soaked in some unaccustomed rain
(That’s us)

We are
Suspended words in a written page
Well written
Unfinished
Printed, Published
Reviewed and Sealed