© Steve King
All rights reserved
it rests so quietly the moon
surface of the waters
deep with stars too
there rises a voice
to chorus brittle reeds
changing its tune always
as each wind turns its way
but I hear a certain song
as you would hear
were you still listening near
it is said there must be
distinction and some distance
in any harmony
as two separates conspire
to masquerade as the one
the ear must surrender
every compound use
and harbor only simple things
but this song comes and goes
a faint motif alone
in search of sturdier melody
song could not be made
more simple now
whisper of dead reeds
enough to score only
an incidental dream
a dream that with the song
does come and go
you with that waiting melody
so near but in another listening place
though I pray always for a harmony
I tell you I would do with less distance
A new post for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/
