I’m listening, remembering,

I wander through a melody,

certain chords speak to me.

I imagine having finally peace

inside the horrific nature of time.

I asked for you just the other day,

yet, the silence provided me

no response,

always that way

when I want to understand what really happened

that cold winter night.

How do lives choose tragedy

when ahead of us is so much

pain.

I ask myself

sometimes when I’m caught up in the mechanical verse,

I wonder if I might know change

when I look in the mirror,

see wrinkles … on a good day distinguish themselves,

beyond the homeless horizon

of an internalized nightmare.