Aug 20, 2006, 15:31
Memory Music
The music we were hearing
during breakfast
sketched and wavered,
hesitating like the
half light and
the edges of the world,
things that almost are,
reminding me but not telling,
uncertain but coming into view.
And because it is music,
as I sit at breakfast,
music knows how much I miss.
If I could focus,
says the music,
there would be impossible beauties.
The music we were hearing
during breakfast
sketched and wavered,
hesitating like the
half light and
the edges of the world,
things that almost are,
reminding me but not telling,
uncertain but coming into view.
And because it is music,
as I sit at breakfast,
music knows how much I miss.
If I could focus,
says the music,
there would be impossible beauties.