The vestiges of support.

For Jack Rose.

The sisters of mercy and Veedon Fleece
Were imaginary

And I have not flown a kite in years.

Seems impractical to not unite
The vestiges of support
Such as these,
Such as we need,
Suspect,

Such as we act upon--
As if their vigilance
Occurred first in the thrushing heart,
Then a moving hand
An invention hushing and
unmistakable in its home,

Midair

And then--
Only then,
Third,

In the infinite where once the suspicion of creation drew breath,
And we acted upon.