As still as the unopened charts at my side I sat in a chair too heavy to move
And pushed so close to the corner walls it couldn’t recline.
I sat for hours as my volition slipped into the autumn dusk.
And these keys I am a slave to had nothing to give.
So I took my empty shell to those that hold my soul,
But when they fell flat like a row of dominoes
I fell below the register of sound.
I walked to the field in my winter coat and summer shoes
Over earth and stones that speak without words.
I opened with the last of my dreamy whims
And the dying leaves as they fell were a song more precious than melody
