Puppet Plays Past Dark

I don’t know if I ever thought like that before
I sort of wandered past
Like a leaf in the breeze
All those memories
Of what you used to be
Cut up and collected
Paper cut out puppet show
Displaying parts of you
Left forgotten and unseen
You know?

Muttering like fretwork
Paper playing in the classroom
French guessing games of who knows who
It’s all about the image
That these left behind psalms leave
Somewhere left in boxes
Stored away inside the eaves

It can be better though;
To blow the dust away
And try again and stay
Solid
In remembering
That the puppet’s there with you
In you
If you just recall its name
Because you’ve got to keep remembering
No
The stage lights aren’t the same