Nothing’s Changed

You still haunt me, as you did then,
As we wind back the clock,
Feeding the birds,
Talking to pigeons
Disregarding notions of emptiness

Love is insistent as logic, reliable as heartbeat
Obsessive as any anorak spotting train
On a cold Thursday morning,

Yet bound by your voice
That echoes an eternity.
I guessed you’d pick up echoes –
No one else could hear

This ground-bass to mourning
This hum below the surface where the angels play.
And above the swirling stars lights our beginnings,

We were hooked then,
And in the beginning,
Nothing’s changed.

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2 Replies to “Nothing’s Changed”

  1. Could have sworn that I read the exact same poem on your blog earlier, but surprised that you’ve never posted it. =S

  2. I had written it as a draft to another poem. Perhaps you saw a sneak preview in our conversation. Poems are, after all, unfinished conversations are they not?

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