We’re in need of a hand
to raise the roof when it’s warm
to raise the day when the sun starts its waking.

We’re in need of a way
to understand sounds that otherwise
are deafening and vile.

We’re in need of a shake
when the days no longer break
and the clouds are too close to ignore.

We’re stuck without words
that flutter, fattened like chords,
and sing to the stars in their placement.