Day 24 the music

The last time we made music,

All of us,

All the order were masked 

In white and blue

And for these in it for the haul, black crepe

It was a kind of slow horror and we saw

A body shipped out in a narrow boat

A stretcher or a door

You sister opened the creaked old iPad

Screen also dead, but underneath the apps trying

Garageband, and laid a beat down as if she

Were planning something good

And you spoke over it

With what new words came into your head

And they were great

The cut glass of your voice

And I was thinking 

Could every memory be in a song?

Like this? Every memory like this

Able to wth a finger halt the sky

From moving and the sun from make arc

And the moon from dilating shrinking

It’s a mood

And the song was called

As I recall it, silver trees in a birch wood

Of my reflection. Dark brown dye

And a kind of powdery cold

Some got tall, some didn’t-see

How I have got older but

I do remember all of it, that song

The name of it was called

 

I'm lost here somewhere 

Find me find me find me