at times we have many people
and at times we are alone,
but when our name is called
forward, brittle in the heat of a fire
we may, then, be alone in a schoolhouse
huddled in cold
waiting for our clock to chime
-name to be called
I was, too,
and from our response to this cackle of blinding light
we charge, a bruised cage, wild people born of primordial water
drawn up
draw up, great pupil
a response, in kind,
the knight dips below to the well of a soul
and from it draws forth, gold
howling
cackling, mournfully with flames,
at times we have many people
be joyful yet, in this