Tuesday, December 18, 2007

 

'Cello - a poem


You would not think
the way he carries it in
that he carries a thing:

the way he favors
his left hand (which touches
its strings) as if it were a wing

that touched God; the way
his knees cling to its sides
as if it were love. It is

his cross, to love
a mermaid whose hair
can sing, his cross

to bear, a wooden box,
half hourglass, half
hollowness restraining

resonant air, to know
what is not woman, not thing
but voice,

and, with the audience
mute as landscapes,
to let it scream.

Ramon C. Sunico

Originally published in
Literary Review, Spring 2000

Copyright 2000, Fairleigh Dickinson University

Comments:
Excellent poem! Just excellent. My day is better for that. :) Happiest of new years to you.
 
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