Names etched on
the head of a pin.
“One name spanning
a bridge, another
undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled
into the skin.
Names of citizens,
workers, mothers,
and fathers,
The bright-eyed
daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in
a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on
the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled
into the dim warehouse
of memory.
So many names, there
is barely room on
the walls of the heart.”
Billy Collins
oh rowan tree, oh rowan tree,
Thou’ll aye be dear tae me,
Entwined thou art wi’ mony ties
Of home and infancy.
…
On thy fair stem were mony names
Which now nae mair I see,
But they’re engraven’d on my heart,
Forgot they na’er can be.
Oh rowan tree.
…
Oh Rowan Tree; traditional Scottish song