the silence of sundown
blossoms into song
and I can only decline
the other side
the underside
of song
at five my hair was yellow and curly
I was thin as water
and beautiful as
wildness in an unblighted field
today my hair is whiter than a wildness of snow
and I’m as unbeautiful
as vanished wisdom
seeking tomorrow
in yesterday’s songs
I’ve gone from here to there
in the space of a breath
between measures of song
I almost hear
the silent songs of yesterday
and the urging of
tomorrow’s songs
but today
today I bless the present
reborn
with each new song
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