«All voices move out from the order that we left them»

All voices move out from the order that we left them.
Turn up and turn around – hear them call your name.
If you call out, I will follow you.

Meeting at the bus-stop, the early morning look-out crowd.
Dizzy from the tire view – hear them call your name.
“Then the others follow; one, two: one, two; one two …
Birds are singing up and down, and all around us”

If you call out, I will follow you.

Julia Holter, Our sorrows