Bec D'Ambes

(Where The Garonne And The Dordogne Join To Make The Gironde)

The poetry monster doesn’t know much
 Only I have to sing the song before
 I can know the song that I am singing
 And that it sang me before I sang it
 
 Poetry monster is an innocent
 Who keeps insisting I sing as song comes
 As it takes me where I don’t know I go,
 Sand, breeze, scent of the river, bomb craters
 
Memory of where I was and was not,
Gaps of not being now filled with music
That is strange to me, a stranger in me,
Notes of what I never knew I noticed
 
Poetry monster and I are alone
As we start to hum the break into song