they know it’s love
they feel that
at the final curtain
they will make a nice
couple but the composer
makes them sing in different keys
he writes their parts on two separate
corners of his desk
on a blanket on the sidewalk
powder falling from the sky
shaken from carillon starlight
an opera winter night
twinkling flickering tintinnabra
shining clappers in deep blue belfry
ringing winter into my ears
i saw myself dreaming
and myself dreamt of me
sitting at a desk where the me
meant to get some work done
the me had got as far as
lifting the my hands to the desk-top
fingertips danced
curtain fell
i would have written before now
but my hand was resting so comfortably
on the unsmudgeably blank sheets
(... winter’s tale)
No comments:
Post a Comment