Reprising

Madge, do you sometimes sit down and hear The songs that winced across your fence, do Think of the desert place our childhood grew up Drinking those songs like anesthesia, old Things now, but lasting more brightly to bring A sense of distance from the lost, and a sense Longing for the past, a sense of wanting things To last, and the past to try again some part While from away the haunting song teases the heart