If I Could Choose the Way that Men Recall

If I could choose the way that men recall
My name, when I have finally closed my eyes,
I think,
I think I’d like them ‘round a fire.
And not a fire so hot it drives away,
Or one so bright it covers up the stars,

But a fire that’s soft and warm; that draws men in
To sit there knee to knee around its flames.

I mean the kind of fire with silent glow
Alights men’s half-faces in such a way
That all feel safely hidden in the dark
While yet they yearn to speak what’s in their hearts.

It needs, as well, to be that time of night
When revelry has passed, about an hour—
When voices grow more soft, more delicate—
Perhaps with someone humming gentle tunes
While others closely listen.

And though they may not know the tune or its words
They know the mood that fits that time of night
Enough that they can say, “That tune was right.”

And then, around that fire at just that time
I hope that someone softly speaks my name,
Allows it to hang quietly, suspended
For just one moment before it fades away.

No other words are needed—just the fire.
It would be
Enough to be remembered ‘round the flames.