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a note from a late romantic MAG
meet me at the coffeehouse
after the concert
the orchestra can play
that adagietto movement for us
and as the harpist plucks
chords
we will be gently falling
into crevices
of curls and cadences
landing on lips.
so come from behind your bass
and open your stringed arms
for this bow will stroke
your fears and caress
your sorrows
until we are freed
of our wooden frames
then everyone will know
our symphony.
© Anonymous
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This article has 2 comments.
CreativeClaire468 SILVER said...
on Sep. 27 2014 at 3:01 pm
Wow! The poem left me in awe. It is a truly amazing poem.
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