2nd Story Window

What’s been in our window’s way, I don’t know

How many promising nights did we wait

Sun gracing each season’s skies through the years
That’s what they claimed all those arduous days
But our eyes didn’t see
What our skin didn’t feel

Now comes the end, so the calendar sings
Belt it out here, with me
Not a song that tells you you’ve got to go home
Instead check the window sign

You’re not alone

Migrant

Rest your weary mind
My love
Rest your stricken heart

Permit time
Permit soonness
Permit fondness promised

When seasons change, as they will
When notes become no more
Permit the absence, too

Emerge Again

To you, girl

Sister to Sister

My sole and loving admonition

If there be trust, if there be hope

It will be found in your eyes

Your eyes

Where they gaze

How they see

And the choosings they reflect upon

I make much of words with you

Made-up words, maybe

But your eyes, I know well

I know the Who you believed in

And still believe

In Your eyes

Within Your grasp

As the narcissi beneath the freeze

There be reason for trust and hope

Winning Season

I’m patient
And there was endless music before you
I recall it played on and on
But I didn’t listen much
And I could get shit done and not hear
Propagandists whining feigned blues
Questioning my faithfulness to the sport
My heart’s whereabouts, my stamina
Like the notes and rhythm were Satan
And I was a modern-day Job
Let history repeat itself if it must

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