Museum & Train, again
after Lisa Russ Spaar’s “Music Lessons”
For so long, this absence, a body cut from its surroundings, paper pieces unstuck from a collage, staccato nowhere, unmapping, unmapped, with an index that reads See also: yesterday. See also: vortex. Mice in their home hidden in brick. And now I have come, carrying tea in a jar like my grandmother, a flash of her hands around a jar at another station, I have come carrying a pencil to note patterns drawn by another, invisible line from their eye to mine. Surround, we say, as an absence disappears.