May 18, 2010

• New Poem

  Aria

   

  I let your sheet music sit
  atop the baby grand where you left it,
  one corner slightly raised
  where it rests on a champagne bottle
  made into a vase for a silk orchid.

  The cadenza is stained
  by a ring of dribbled coffee.
  The cup’s mouth is dusty
  and I have no heart to raise it
  lest I smudge the print of your lip. 

  • 10:48 pm
  • 1 Comment