Sanctuary


What hold the lights,

What hold the sounds –

What silence scares me so

I ask nothing more than seeming

Mooring against the undertow

The land we knew

The land we forgot

Has never been and never will

And we carve ourselves poor crevices

Paste where glass once glowed

Only let me keep the stories

That can never be my own

The laughter of a dozen strangers

The comfort of a kingly home

What hold the light,

What hold the sounds

But a papery sanctuary

Against a sea long lost in changing

And the charts that sinking go