Scraps of songs on random tapes;
old songs, new songs, complete and
incomplete; snatches of melody,
harmony; indistinct as to which;
I sit very, very still among them all;
radio off, music off,
television off; why listen
or watch; they want me
to fall in, slip into a warm bath;
I sit and watch and listen to all
and close my eyes, my ears as much
as they can close; thinking hard
on the spectacle of life; thinking
hard about what the songs
have led me to; my eyes closed,
my ears blocked, my mouth
shut tight against speaking,
skin taut with expectation;
no sense left untouched,
no memory worth holding tight,
I sit very still and know this;
my heart is full with it, this
moment, this second,
so I sit very, very still.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T