sheets

sheets posted off to waste,notes
that will see no more sound.
they call to me, a cherished regret,

part of a passage of raptured loss.

left in an airport lounge, I long for them,
furiously read with a child's simple blessing.
golden stars, pencil marks and potent aspiration.

I then see our sunset house, so crystal-clear,
the only other image (than yours) just google maps.
the roses reach out, the grass grows long,

I nurture the sounds of new memory.

I sat on that stool and mimicked odysseys,
appreciating my unfaltering listener, my sage.
I built upon a case of joy but with strings

tightened and bound like sincerity.

but then we had to reach out, dropping our
fortunes (and the sheet music) for unknown ventures.
we purged the old lines, urging with

unexpected grace notes towards a cathartic major chord. Print this post