It’s rare when the music of the moment eludes me-
rare when I cannot find the words to pirouette
through the spaces between emotional major and minor keys.
The birch trees are painted on more somber backdrops,
black and white
the leaves flutter,
half-homeless melodies conducted in palest spring green.
If I stumble over such a lyric song note by note
instead of dancing with it,
The wind has made me remember to hang onto nothing,