The Loom Pedal

Simple signals sung until we’re hoarse
A thread across a great expanse
Severed in the middle like a bullet to the sinew
Shall we dance

Exhausted, interred
When vertices spur, the shuttle returns

Orchestrated effort adding elements in conjuring ideals
Coordinated passage is a fragile, braided reason to reveal

As soon as I find a good tree to climb
The image rewinds

I’ve said my share in aches, maligned and migrained
But write 'cause it’s a fool’s errand
Busy, busy, busy