The old Company
Wound down and
Out of the ashes,
Rises the Phoenix.
A people put on clearance.
A pelt for a skin.
The Phoenix arises anew,
Flame and ash below.
What’s old is new,
And this is older than commerce,
Much older than that base pursuit.
From a time beyond memory.
Fealty and Loyalty.
A pelt for a skin.
The howls muted.
Indignation harnessed.
Pro Pelle Cutem,
Takes a new meaning.
Never Fifty One.
But maybe Twenty Eight.
By W.N. Branson 
