Monday, January 08, 2018
Cadences
They set out snares
amid the symbols,
and all but the high-
hats cared. After,
I forget my glasses!
Like a piece of you
omitted in confusion.
Well a kind someone reaches
my cell, and I go briefly
back. You relive something
different over any return.
What seems gone being
restored, of course. But
more than what’s discovered.
Why you make up
in love
of Hope.
Labels: drum, forgotten, learning, lost, missing, return
