The things that are, are
echoes, waves, third hand
handmedowns of
were
The music we listen to, serves only to
remind us what we heard before and
where we were and the breezes we felt on
those warm spring nights
those windows left open
nights that lasted for weeks
I open up a box of blank paper
close all the windows
turn off the radio so I can focus
on just now or
better still
what will be
They fall, they fall
Descending, sweet melody
And what it is, that is not ending
is a sweet mystery
Elephant revival - Ring around the Moon