Mystic Chord

Something popped out,
the mystic chord,
I tried to play it in my head,
but couldn't read the notes above the stave,
I always lost the proportion
when writing them out prior.

Returning today, thrown
by the loss of which village
overlapped which,
my high notes, toppling
off the manuscript,
just copying patterns,
and strewn in replication,
clattering the house style.

The order of things,
yoked and re-yoked
to time,
shifting nodes.

This road didn't ever seem linked to
that, a sucking wound
for what it has now pulled together,
it cleaves something else apart.