There was a time

There was a time

We sang a song of heartbreak

Played the violin

The music was displayed

On a stand by the window

The piano lid is closed

Or carried off

Unto the landfill

Catgut strings remain

Unpicked

Embroidered handkerchiefs

Survive

Tightly folded

In the bottom of a drawer

Too many threads

Rarely golden

Frayed from disenchantment

A few pearls

From a dropped stitch

A pattern

Rarely followed

A tightly woven weft

Every single strand

Wrapped in close

Entanglement

Their proximity

Lost to one another

Broken needles

Stuck in a groove

Of dancing reels

Once darned, holes

Take on the appearance

Of patchwork quilts

Let them be

Unbind them

It is the modern way

To cut ties

With the past

Reinvention is the art

Of illusion

There are no truths

Just old ideas

In new clothes

Spin the winding wheel

Pull the wool

From your eyes

Snip at the

Rural meanings

Of Arcadia

And the loose ends of

Gordian knots

They are all Greek to me