The bottle was empty,
there was no folded paper
or leaf with letters cleverly pricked into it
stuffed inside. There was no label
no DRINK ME tag, no emblem
cast into the colorless glass.

But the wind across the neck
whispered as loud as breeze in a grove of palms
that covers an entire continent: Remember
and using the thick base of the bottle as a lens
I set fire to an old fallen treetrunk
and the blaze was visible for miles

and in the morning the same not-letters
spelled out the Names of God on a lateen sail
standing in to shore.