A dreary morning ensemble
Of broken instruments.
Curtains spread, so do my eyes,
To the light that ensues.
Glinting light off the tangled marionette
And The already sprung jack in the box.
The room illuminated slowly;
I conduct a silent orchestra, to my twisted audience.
The cymbals crash not
The lute strings yield no twang.
As for the birds outside
Has that chorus ever sang?
The accordion doesn't breathe,
So I stop as well.
Before long I must leave,
I bow to the audience; farewell.
I leave the doormat at the front door,
And the musicians I don't own.
Down the stairs
Past the mailbox
I leave my home.
In my walks I dream of you
Sharing my path.
I think of the curves of your neck,
The creases of your eyes,
And hands.
The weight of you,
As I lay face down,
And You rest on my back.
The silence between us at times,
That I don't ever seem to mind.
But just incase, you reach for my hand,
Just incase silence feels unkind.
I think of your laugh,
At my awkward jokes.
Mostly;
I think of your smile.
I reach the school
Still lost with you.
"Hey" they all say.
And conversation flows.
I listen, comment, even join in,
Of my dreams,they do not know.
The pensive mood of my journey lingers,
A fifteen minute walk feels years ago.
I think of the instruments left alone,
The time I once spent with them
(Not so long ago.)
I laugh at a joke,
Oh he's a funny friend!
And then someone speaks your name.
The light passes over my face
Like open curtains,
Across the drums.