('90 / America)

The Three Quills

For five months we have met
One and Two and Three.
And shared our tales and critiqued
Him and you and me.
Our writing family.

A few more weeks to meet.
Our time is running thin.
Sand sifts through my fingers
As our light goes dim.
But Blotters shall not win!

We may drift apart, indeed.
Miles between us grow.
But when some are close as we
They cannot die, you know.
For God hath made it so.

We shall write, and write on!
One for all, all for one.
The work is not nearly done
For One and Two and Three.

Our farewells may be said
And paths may wind away,
But our words are evermore
And will run with the day.
They shall not fade away.

And as those words are read
As those tales are ink
They shall serve between us
As an iron, binding link.
Our ship can never sink.

And long shall live the Quills.

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