The air stands still,
the fan takes slow
A page swings once,
too soft to show
Each motion stirs a hidden scene
A blur between what was and been
This quiet loom still holds the trace Of words we never tried to place
A single light,
a leaning wall I wonder if you saw it all
The
time slips past like filtered light Not quite the day,
not quite the night
The muck half-cold,
the corner *** Your echo stretched out faint and thin
This quiet loom still holds the trace Of words we never tried to place
A single light,
a leaning wall I wonder if you saw it all
I watched the edge where moments stall Almost morning,
barely fall
Certain shift with no real breeze The stillness hums in minor keys
I mark the hour without sound Still in the place we now found
This quiet loom still holds the trace Of words we never tried to place
A single light, a leaning wall I wonder if you saw it all
Pages move but won't let go