III

Michael’s Response

Verse III

Ghostly throng that haunts my

solitude

a multitude of seen once

friends

nigh enough to touch though not

welcome

steel trees stabbed harshly into

soil

that cannot recount fall of

gentle rain

whose burnings yield but false

peace

night sings with something not

music

makes me wish for a moment of

silence.

After Sufjan’s contribution for the second verse, this one came very quickly. It was relatively easy to pick up on his theme of ground unable to soak up the moisture, and his “ghosts” was the perfect transition for my throngs of met-once, unwelcome drivers crowding the road. Again in this verse is the dichotomy present when the two worlds are juxtaposed, the offset words once more representing the world that I grew up in, and the whole construct together circumnavigating the urban settings we both found ourselves in, though 5,000 miles apart.