Song of Words, Second Movement

it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.
it reads:
A tear begins, a scratch
Like the lighting of a match
Bursting with bright fires
And tearing of the wires

The lights begin to flare
And vanish in the air
The sleep of reason comes
With the calling of its drums

The drumming of the pops
As each lamp flashing, drops
This the work of your own hand
All I may do now is stand.


  1. Dimly might we make it through
    These long and winding years.
    Dip round the bend then, flash in view
    Our Lord to meet us at the pier.

  2. Of all the times I’ve hid and sought
    I’ve hid from scarecrows of my past.
    When all was lost, or so I thought,
    A friend to you I am at last.


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