Elizabeth Barrett eloped

in 1846, the saxophone

was patented, unheard strains

of trumpet cleaved to clarinet

a reed quiver within a brassy throat

Robert Browning in his dream

creates an instrument unsung

unstrung pleasure attuned

in measure to earth and sky

meteors, holy ventures,

hurtle through the dark

light a priesthood of belief

in passion’s harmony

leave wit beguiled

unreason at the helm

Shush, he told her,

their spent youth sped past

in a delirium, as he

fingered her hair 

photo from public domain

 

In This Short Life

Mittens on dog paws

a slim needle

in my fingers

a sliver of moonlight

its eye an abyss

of Madame Chabert’s

ruler whacking

my knuckles

that preferred to curl

over Scott Joplin’s rag in The Sting

croon over Love Story’s theme

Joni Mitchell’s ‘Both Sides Now’

or Bach and Beethoven

for beginners

always beginning

like pushing a needle

through air

hoping it will poke

up from the unseen

backside of the linen

pull meaning from chaos

in little red stitches.

Butterfly Logic

Just when you think

you are invisible

inside your little tank

on black asphalt ribbons

wheels buffered from earth

in quiet company with the dead

as you breathe conditioned air

to filter out civilization’s discontent

a fragile messenger pauses

at your shoulder

flutters

you’ve been seen

even though you don’t seem

to exist in the mirror.

When You Left

I sold

the house

where last

we lived

together.

It could

not hold

the shoes

you left

behind.