“zéphyr,” music, sing…my poem
Pluck me, I quiver…
zéphyr
More than breeze,
I hear you in receiving trees.
A little air you pluck
on topmost, bending, leafy lyre.
Your music scuttles to some other ear,
a variant tone,
I hear my own,
it stills.
Pluck me, I quiver, one more harmony…
Sing me, lifting,
I sing you,
I flutter, just a little…
assez…
June 29, 1995
Bethany Beach, DE
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
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