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lyrics

Powderhorn

The park’s name is Powderhorn,

which often makes me imagine dragons
composed only of the sugar in Pixi Stix
as if they were torn open and splayed out
in rainbow arrays of sour dust.

My sister and I used to make ourselves
dizzy and nauseous by spinning each other
around and around
on a huge disk with handholds.

We held on to the bars while my mother or father
or nana or papa launched the disk into circles,
and it always seemed to feel to me like time
was suspended in the midst of our rotations.

I wonder what would happen if I spun on it now,
wildly and with abandon. Time might warp
and fold onto itself, and I might be teleported back
to the year 1999: the brink of a new millennium.

The park was painted orange and blue
back then, and the paint was fading and chipped
in many places. Now it is a fresh composite of green,
which matches the trees and hedges surrounding the park,

and beige, which almost blends in with the sand.
But it is still lonely, the way that a blade of grass,
taller than all of the others around it, catches one’s attention
for a moment and is quickly forgotten.

There used to be a ficus hedge that ran along the border
between sand and grass, and behind the swingset.
It must have been slain while I was away;
how attached we grow to the objects of memories.

My sister and I used to try to swing high enough
to vault over the hedge, but I don’t think
I ever had the courage to actually try.

credits

from House of Hummingbirds, released September 26, 2017
Written by Evan Zegiel. Performed by Anthony DeMartinis, Nelson Gast, Ben Harmsen, and Evan Zegiel.

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House of Hummingbirds Ann Arbor, Michigan

House of Hummingbirds exists to burn through the artifice of the digital age and reconnect with the beauty of human emotions.

Evan Zegiel has been writing poetry and lyrics for years. He is primarily an orchestral tuba player, but has been playing bass and electric guitar for about the same amount of time. Merging those skills resulted in the birth of House of Hummingbirds.
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