As I walked down the cobblestone,
picking up my nerves,
I saw my breath and pocketed my hands,
and prayed and thought and cursed.
For the strangest notion was in my head,
and I was worried I’d do my worst
and on the platform, like a heated bulb
I flickered and clicked and burst.
because if I’m to share my soul
I’ve nowhere else to go
do I put it on display?
or bury it in its hole?
I’ll never know.
Out back I stood on broken brick,
numb and joyous, both.
Like a fire flaming on its last good stick
I was warm and tired and old.
For if tonight is but a blur,
could the future be so calm?
I admit I fear to know
which way the map is drawn.
because if I’m to share my soul
I’ve nowhere else to go
do I put it on display?
or bury it in its hole?
I’ll never know.
As the evening drew its final breath,
and the bright lights dimmed to glow,
I sat with legs dangling on the edge,
and felt a subtle pull—
to do it again and again and again,
and when the smoke settles in droves,
I will sigh and sigh and sigh,
like a long unused bellows.
because if I’m to share my soul
I’ve nowhere else to go
do I put it on display?
or bury it in its hole?
one day I’ll know.
