the lives of a few found objects

Shelley sent me these lyrics and because I am not quite ready to say out loud what exactly is happening in my life currently, I thought I would let poetry speak for me...


the lives of a few found objects


perfume the moment, pink cherry flower
to concrete your colour falls
is someone inhaling your perfect demise
bereft and sweet and small?

trace through the hours, phonograph needle
over scratches and waltzes that spin
is someone listening, is someone dancing
as you circle and circle within?

capture a soul, polaroid camera
burn it to a square paper shape
is someone holding their lover's image
lamenting their worldly escape?

perfume the moment pink cherry flower
to concrete your colour will fall
may someone inhale your perfect demise
bereft, sweet and small.