Words Are Just Some of the Lives of the Gone

Don’t mind the roars of the trucks
And the jets. You want the still

World back, yes, and you can get
There if you wait for a gap.

There, hear that? No roars, no hums.
Was this what the past was like?

Hm, well. For one thing, those roars
And hums you have to wait out

Just weren’t, and one can’t miss that
Which ain’t. You’re used to such roars

And can joy in their gaps. They
Who lived then could not do that,

Just as you can’t do, can’t know
How to do, what you do now

That souls will yearn to do, too,
When you’re long gone from this view.