I am that member of the family of things
that never leaves the house again
and steps into war church each hour
That corresponds to images and on
the street your face and body and clothes
your walk and silky destinations
Without knowing it I digest your choices
and forget to connect you to the rest
You in whom the years have changed
You both a block and its veins, the portion
path to the places that are gone to
The music is going if there is music
There’s always some sound or other
Signs of effort on the face of the air
There are those who wait in longing to hear
and those around whom dead waves flow
It’s like twilight to be alive now