I sit on a cedar shelf
A ghost of my former self
The ferns climb the iron frame
The wind calls a hidden name
I hold every golden ray
In a frame of yesterday
Through the cracks the ivy grows
Where the secret water flows
The glass has a jagged tear
The scent of the pine is near
I watch how the petals bend
Waiting for the day to end
The city is far and bright
A flicker of distant light
The soil is a heavy bed
Where the summer roses bled
I hold every golden ray
In a frame of yesterday
Through the cracks the ivy grows
Where the secret water flows
Click a shutter, hold the breath
A moment defying death
Iron bars and broken pane
Washing clean in sudden rain
The shutter is locked in place
A frozen and faded face
I count every drop of dew
Turning gray to velvet blue
I hold every golden ray
In a frame of yesterday
Through the cracks the ivy grows
Where the secret water flows
Silver glass lens.
Silver glass lens.
Hold the ray.
