involuntary musical imagery

by Kristyn Stallings



Spindle branches on the tree tap a rhythm on my window
like a song to which I can barely remember the melody,

               a song to which I try my hardest to remember the melody,
               chasing staccato memories in circles in my head.

Memories of broken lyrics play on repeat in my head
a one sided conversation heard through a wall.

               A one sided conversation heard through my mother’s wall,
               “Service starts at 3 o’clock. Yes, he wanted to be cremated.”

The service started at 3 o’clock, by 5 he was cremated.
He came home in a box the next day.

               He came home with a box one day,
               containing a Casio keyboard,

A Casio keyboard on which I’m trying my hardest to play the melody;
the melody to a song I can barely remember.


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