This interlude of old music....
Shiver
of wind across the dark pool.
Willows
blur beyond a haze of nymphs.
Color
of thoughts turning sapphire
as
moments open shadowed orchids.
Almost
silence, then a deeper quiet.
Apparition of swan and the twilight comes.
....turns time into a volume of numbness
and
forgetting how a feathered grace's
buoyant
wings, also lifting, have flown.
....is
a way of atmosphere and a sinking
into
the liquid mirror where stars drown,
where
a dying memory still glimmers.
....is
a way of waiting, beauty-wounded,
on
the haunted bank where a phantasm
glides
the rhythm of a lasting nocturne.
~ TB, 2013
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