Family Composite

Went home. Oh we went home in the dark, a quiet ride through a little bit of stardust. Just like we always planned. Went home with a wedding picture in my pocket wondering if you'll ever take a picture again. Wondering what kept me talking in such a quiet after such a winter. Covered in white and roof collapsing in. Wondering how we crawled out wondering how we found a gasp of burning breath steaming nebulously from us into the night. Did you oh did you lose the film under the mean old snow storm. I wonder if winter ends, because no one has ever known. Perhaps it does not and our rings will never fit our fingers again. Maybe the picture in my pocket is a story and we aught to tell it when we get home, like a secret. Maybe then it won't matter if winter ends or if everything collapses. Maybe if everyone is quiet and someone tells it. Is it something like praying? Or is it broken, a small laugh when you've counted the moments left and there is nothing to do. When we fall grasping each other with fists red and bleeding, brothers. Is it broken just like we used to pray? Left home, oh I left home this week, quiet with aches and pains and wondering if you'll ever take a picture again.