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.