i am the bass of an electric guitar
calm and faint, slow
that holds the note
and defends, steady,
its quiet sadness.
the heartbeat of a time
that’s gone
begins:
one by one it scatters memories,
spaced and deep,
the strike of the drumstick.
the singer’s voice
doesn’t try to outrun me,
and translates into words what I confess
each time this song returns.
and though there are three of us, we come together —
loss reunites us;
on this small stage
of modest light
we sing the lost things,
what time carries away...
tear,
silence of the road,
first true night;
we offer this performance to the sky
to, slowly, watch the stars dance...
and I know well.
refusing to look at joy
doesn’t make us welcome:
the shadows dissolve
they murmur; they yawn...
bright once was this song,
hear the lament that remains,
music of a heart —
its firm and quiet sadness.
