poetry
If I meet you at the crossroads
Will you come on blackest night?
Not tepid morning
But in the snow drift when winter’s calling
That’s how you make that thing
Set the puppet upon a string
Make intonation, a revealing hand
Shift your weight, deploy your stand
That’s when it rings
That’s when it’s tuned
Thence be a queen, thence be a King
Bide your time
Get refined
Take broad strokes, Hell — learn by mime
Not by day, don’t learn to play
Or dance in rhythm
Break the schism, lead by ear
And face your fears
So meet me there when new days falling
Meet me there before the dawning
Not summer, spring, but winter calling
Round midnight, when it’s pouring
Meet me in the meanest season, the darkest night
When lost all reason
On the ground lost not be found
Not in the Sun
Nor having fun, I’ll be there
Lest I leave
Under lapsing Luna
What could’ve been
And been there sooner
So all be lost, sure life gets painful
The night is set and this road leads there
Forsake me not
Not by the ocean, nor on its shores
But at the crossroads whence lurks rumor
And upon darkest night we’ll catch the tuner
