One Winter, on the Eve of the Rift

from by Jeremy Amon

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Poor folk like us,
we'll all but set down our minds,
we'll all but set them in stone,
we've both been waiting for a sign from both of us.

Though we're not sorry,
we've all but lied before,
we've called up our smiles before,
we've formed these false lives and worn them.

Though we've not seen right,
though we've not been right,
though we've not feared right,
oh we've all but known.

You will come to
know the love you
never saw in me.
We aren't young,
we've grown old,
blind, un-consoled.
This wasn't meant to be.

You will come to
know the love you
needed from my shy and troubled heart.
I will come round,
you just found
me right on the edge of knowing where to start.

you mean well but you still don't know,
that we'll all but deny the truth
that our love is all for naught.
You will see that all will be well for you,
but for now we are lost.

All I've known is lost,
all I've held is lost,
all notes I have played are lost.


from The Sounds of Our Voices, released January 4, 2016




Jeremy Amon Berkeley, California

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