the end of amnesia

[[ This one is more poem than song, I suppose. I tried to make each line a separate image or idea that could stand on its own. For example, "a box of familiar" and "remains to remember" could be two things, perhaps two ways to describe a dead person's ashes. Words do double duty. ]]

A box of familiar

words on a shelf:

we'll be together

when ash is dust,

when smoke curls to

high rolling clouds

(how heavy are they?

let's look it up)

and clouds burst.

When stone smooths
away in the wind,
when ivy obscures,

when nobody here

remains to remember

we were, what endures

weighs as much as
a black locomotive

burning in the sun.