A Dedication 

Johnathan Callies

Nathan, there will be time enough for words
Of absence, for calendars mislaid and dates
Lost. It’s easy to forget a name, to relegate 
A man to that one guy who sipped gingerly
His gimlet. Easier still to forget how tenderly
He held his glass, as if the murky pool of lime Juice and gin held in itself treasures unspeakable.
It’s easy to forget speech is but a mouth pressed
To a glass, or lips to the forehead of a daughter
Who sometimes lapses on the name, “Father.”