Every Tunesday I post a boldly imperfect, one-take song draft of a song. This was written from a prompt offered on March 28th, earlier this year, “Curtains that don’t quite close.” (You can receive a new prompt every Friday in time for Happy Hour by signing up here).
The fabric of a lost touch
The last piece of drapery
A light cracked through the window
The low fruit on the tree
The end of a performance
in this darkened heart of mine
the ghost light and the doormice
the pain ripened on the vine
When the curtain won’t quite close
It’s not time to take a bow
When uncertainty of what I see has punch me in the nose
The curtain won’t quite close
The hands aren’t striking midnight
but my fear is everywhere
the vigil of just one candle
A chill in the night air
The spotlight of a question
The hope within a pause
the proscenium of starlight
the open heart of awe
When the curtain won’t quite close
It’s not time to take a bow
When uncertainty of what I see has punch me in the nose
When that time is now
When that time is now
I fear I’m reaping what I sowed
but the dreams aren’t flickered out . . .
I fear I’m reaping what I sowed
Time to scream and shout
It’s what a pillow knows of dreaming
but the dreams aren’t flickered out
but the dreams aren’t flickered out
timmyr.com 