In the Balance & Lacunae

2 beautiful songs set the poetry of Robyn Sarah

In the Balance
Fire can kindle fire,
but the vessel removed from the 

fire soon grows cold.

 

The forecast: hiatus, quietus.

 Fear for the world.

 Where’s north now?

 

This speeding-up of time will

end by slowing us down if we are lucky.

 

(Pivot of sungleam on the curve 

of the metal stair rail.)

 

Lacunae
Why am I sad tonight?

As if in answer, the rain:

a hushed rush of summer rain.

 

What is the wall that divides us

from our shining?

 Of what is it made?

 

Ghosts of old stairways cling

to the brick sides of buildings

flanked by vacant lots.

 

I want to play back the sound of

my own pen moving across the 

page, dotting i‘s and  crossing t‘s.