How can I feel

(within such a minor moment)

That somehow the lights within me

Were shut off

And the music turned down?


We go at such loud paces

Stomping about madly

And singing with our heads thrown back

That when there is a space of quiet

We simply don’t know what to do

Or say

Or even how to breathe.


I can only think that I am homesick

And that my life isn’t lining up as I mapped

And that I must make dinner, but what?


I feel that somehow I must take my soul

And shine it like I need to shine my silverware

Polish it back to perfection

So it gleams in the lamplight.

And once again, I will pop like champagne.