June 24, 2019Poem

I don’t think it is possible...not now and maybe not ever.

lossmusicpoliticstimelovesolitude

I don’t think it is possible...not now and maybe not ever.

Is there a workshop

For broken hearts

A repository

A lost place

A warehouse

Somewhere between

This space and that

Where hearts are stored in sequence

Waiting to be recovered

Looking for deliverance

Do they all beat wildly

In cacophonous arrhythmia

Marking the hour

In bloodflow

Do they respond

To the ministrations

Of a physician

Or a clocksmith

When they are

More than a mechanism

In need of restoration

With stories to tell

Is there healing

In the telling

Or the listening

For inference

In silence

Between one beat

And the next

Are broken hearts

Given the time

To knit pieces

Together again

Before they all stop

Bleeding