for Nathaniel

Back when only holy men could write,

The farmer or squire who signed himself

With the letter X, St. Andrew’s cross,

Would bow and put his lips to it,

Reverently, in proof of his good faith.

Now: here’s a boy knows only goodness

And honesty. Nature has denied

Him the gift of reason, yet he has made

His mark in the world. Guide

The pen as he scrawls, and bear witness.

His cross shall serve for a name and a kiss.