I hear the opening notes of your singsong voice,

“Babe, I’m home,” upon walking through the door.

I anticipate the loving embrace we’ll share

after your shoes have been kicked off onto the floor.

A comforting feeling from just your presence

washes over me whenever you appear.

Like a chorus of love for my heart,

reaching a crescendo when I hold you near.

Now alone in silence, lost in reverie,

because there is no other choice.

I sit quietly, aching for just one more chance

to hear the opening notes of your singsong voice.

the opening notes

as I remember them

sound like those I'm

hearing at the closing

life a sandwich

of strewn confetti

blasted out for all

to hear take notice

between the fog

reverie lost floating

seemed important

at the time forgotten

A voice that transcends identity.

Evoking translucent memories.

A hum that explodes into thin air.

A whisper in a moment of your deepest despair.

Lifting you beyond where you dared to tread.

Stepping on air,your heart hanging by a thread.

The one you weaved in your darkest night.

The catch and release of tears,your song takes flight.

I hear the opening notes

And I'm lost in mortal reverie

I read the notes, delivered posts

That assign to me my destiny

*

Chords are struck, fortissimo

As dares, en masse, addressed to me

But I hear them in arpeggio

When the obituary's in calligraphy

*

The opening notes are a call to action

Tension rises with seducing glissando

A wagered push, demanding exaction

To sing falsely in counterblow

*

I veer away from the melody

And strike a chord discordant

A maverick fugue waxing severally

To a backbeat self-important

*

I mourn myself in retrograde

Undoing—before all is lost—unwrote

Some notes are meant to be unread

So you can rest in peace at the home note