Poem: Dying, Hears Thrush

 

Dying, Hears Thrush

 

mild lute,

mellifluous of peace-tuned

arpeggio.

 

sorcery of sonata

dispels grids, street lattices,

rectangular crypts.

 

luscious of lulalby,

nuanced of note,

this fingerboard of throat--

 

yes, a warbler!

each luscious resonance

to reminisce.

 what purity of touch!

these inlays of sound,

my body uplifted

in the dulcet, jewelled sigh,

 

and i see why now 

trees cherish such songs,

as i melt into delight,

 

this ancient, sensual immersion.

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5/17 cosmetic changes 

4/20 tons of changes

3/3 changed some prepositions ... 

Foot hurts, can't walk.  Might as well write what I wish.