Tide.

A new picture occupies the old frame

The clear plastic of last summer

Holds a clear picture of today

It's the same size but vastly larger

And I think about my sister

Who is very much at home

And I wonder what the view is from heaven

The word is not quite "again"

For my patterned thoughts still wander

And each grand story has different chapters

Mat got my letter

And I wonder who gives Jon coffee in the afternoons

And will you be gone in July

And how close are we to a symphony

Used to be afraid of monsters

Now we're afraid of ourselves

Guess you could say that the nightmares never really changed

But there's this house on the lake

And as we're driving there I can see my city

The neighbor boy is laughing

I can hear it through my window

Blurred faces in blurred photographs

The colors can bleed but they are still so bright

Life is a beautiful paradox -