Hi James,
I like this too, but I found the line breaks were coming around too quickly for me to settle into what felt the right mood for the poem. So I eliminated half of them, with the following result (which I think I prefer). I somehow feel sure I'm looking at this wrong, and that your instinct must be better, but this is where I am at the moment ...
I walk back to you on fingertips, carefully
turning each grainy page, peeling them from
each other, from their folded selves in dust
that unsettles quickly from my deep closet
shelves—that rush up to light like all of a sudden
doubt, or an old song in the mind that silence
brings out. In the must that will gather where
time stands still, I found them bound by a hair-
band, yellowed letters beneath frills. I try,
but can’t understand the grandness of my
flourish, the tapering landscapes of hills,
my own hand. One by one I pull them apart,
squint to hear the lyrics of the younger heart—
maybe the spacious acoustics of forever
and ever, of brighter rooms. I pluck at the
corners, try to grip what I meant, to find
a clear note, what string’s out of tune.
Apologetic cheers
David
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