Steady, her name
balanced its sword or spear or pole
to fight, or to throw, or to catch a fish
gleaming in the sun?
No one knows.
Strong stood the feet of her name;
her letters spilled and pooled and stayed
firm in serifs and type,
and curled at the edges like old paper chains
gilded golden with light.
Her name, teasing loops
of a soft-spun web or a knotted rope
cast to the water, wide-flung her net--
what sought she to catch within
those loosely woven threads?