To the tune of a song not yet written

I dropped my name in an empty star
the risers sagging with the rot of time

Found a hole in the ground but the sign says climb
Dad where did you go Son I’ve not gone far

By the streaky window with hands of a child
Drew a shape through my breath that I called Forever

Drew down the wind my heart was a fever
My lover woke me with the hands of a weaver

Mom where did you go Son I knew you were clever
Now the morning’s come now the air is mild

Son the house of your life is balm for pain
And your children ride the curve of the river

Son where did you go there’s news to deliver
And the roof does not explain the rain