Chaffinches

I lost my voice when the clocks went back
It returned in early April
It took a while for me to notice and my handwriting got careless
Now Saturday nights come in second place
To counting back the days
We’re falling, like a small child on an ice rink
We’re crashing like chaffinches against a window pane

We’d run through midnight streets and the avenues singing harmonies
Lost songs, lost memories
Those old cassettes nearly finished me

I lost myself to a melody
It was old but ran with quick steps
And as I paused for breath, it tapped my right shoulder and ran to the left
Now Saturday nights are a tape cassette
Running backwards through the decks
We’re falling, like kites when the wind stops
Shaking like caravans balancing on brick

We’d run through midnight streets and the avenues singing harmonies
Lost songs, lost sunshine
Count me in and let’s sing it again

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