Transcription: Threads. My daughter and I practiced two songs. We sang them into sharp wind, blowing over her casket through the flowers. A last scene both closes a film and opens it to memory. The movie finally drained of time, still full of sequence. The whole story sloshes up against the ending and spills over. The ER nurse tells me black sheep give him the best maps of minefields in an emergency's family. Five kids in hours. All three sons and one daughter married at a distance sent news back. The boys in flight from Baptist rigor vitis. Both girls flown to it. We sons turned for contrast to volatile wom ...