I begin songs over and over.
\nSo much beginning,
\nkeeping the track of endings.
\nI hear my father making tea.
\nFirst day, every day, then gone.
\nI wonder where the endings go.
\nProfound closets.
\nTrackless winters of snow.
\nThe sigh of air, entering the
\nopenness of windows.
\nThe noise of birds
\nthat annoyed me with their noise.<\/p>\n
Now, silence,
\na catastrophe of time.
\nThe cracking of the bell.
\nSo I invent what the birds
\ngave to me.
\nThe dream of my father\u2019s tea,
\nspilled now.
\nWhere is the noise, waking?
\nI put a pillow on my ears
\npretending the birds still wake me.
\nI regret loneliness,
\nwhat was is joy,
\nthe axis of my life enduring.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I begin songs over and over. So much beginning, keeping the track of endings. I hear my father making tea. First day, every day, then…<\/p>\n