She sang the words without melody without
thought they were written in her heart across
her life they—tattooed—against her soul, she
sang the words through tears through time

First at 16 then at 29 the words came from a
deep well, a place of clear cold, of intensity
of meaning when she meant more than saying
the words, more than living the memory

At 16 it was birthdays and living; moving toward
a future at once certain unknown misplaced and
ultimately found…an idea that what appears
today has a solidity that carries it to tomorrow

At 29 the circle had turned and death, announced,
lay at her feet;a wreath of disregard of shaking
off the coils the chains that bind…and singing the
thoughts words ideas into the dark today

She sang the words a poem of regret of love
of an inside crying feeling the world sliding away
becoming a tomorrow unseen unprepared un-
known yet always…just…there

She sang the words for him for her a call to
the gathered the lost the forgotten she reached
that well that clanky geared place where all of
what she knew was from him

…and only him