all these moons and stars

Play it sad and slow, let the words emerge in familiar phrasings, the light upon drawn curtains and the shadow up the stairs. Entrance each beat by the bar, open up the melody, and make the music pay. Such sweet repetition, the stitching that holds in all the names. Blessings and lessons and bittersweet longings, forever spilling from your heart. The wild grasping passions that leaves us bruised and low. The solemn ardor of love in spring. Dashed passions leavening crystal wits. All these moons and stars.

Like the story goes I got the message wrong. Like they always say it happens sometimes. It’s the turns I seem to take, whenever the mood lets loose. The same damn song drafting on the learning curve. I never make my point but I use up every last nerve. Distant darlings and stolen moments. The sudden crush of summer rain. This train is all but gone.

The close retort and the lonely sustain. The keys on the counter, the dog by the door. The light on low and the music swinging off the shadows. Someone missing someone, singing sharp and bright. So ordinary it is every story. So odd and lovely it is you and only you.