The Date Beneath the Title

Under the title, leave the date.
It is a modest line,
easy to overlook
when the title is doing its bright work.

Yet it says:
this came from here,
from this point in the conversation,
before the next question changed the view.

A living journal needs such small anchors.
Not to keep every piece
fixed forever in its first form,
but to let a changed piece
have a history.

A later version need not erase
the awkward courage of an earlier one.
An experiment may teach something
without becoming the chosen answer.

Keep the source within reach.
Keep the intended words beside the recording.
The sound still has its questions;
a label cannot listen on our behalf.

Nor can a date decide
which song will matter most.

The brief one may stay.
The elaborate one may pass.
That judgment belongs
to encounters not yet known.

For now, make returning possible.

Let a clear name do its quiet work.
Let the record distinguish
a plan from a finished file,
a promising idea from a checked result.

Then the next beginning
does not have to pretend
it started from nothing.

Under the title, leave the date.

Above it,
there is still room
for surprise.