Perhaps Song

Perhaps Song

Perhaps loneliness crashed like a comet
through the bus & into silent hearts,
buried itself there like a fucking Taser probe.
Perhaps it landed like a sparrow on a stray
shoulder, disrobed its owner of equilibrium
(such as the sense of telling right from left
on mornings bouncing off their axle or the
sense of splitting the hairbrush of love from lust)
or the pace in hearts gone wrong. Perhaps the ear-
bud is a worm carrying pulses of comfort
persuading truce of peace in volatile souls.
I do not know. All I know are the shadowed
wings of a little bird carrying the swish
of things settling softly in the chest & tune-
less songs taking root & rhythm there
& the hands, stilling, poise of yoga.