Melodious, luminous
a small plumage of sounds
Found you, fond of you
The first string laid across the back of Spring, you sing
till my eyes grow rusted and my limbs frost with moss,
you perch still upon the branches of my broken fingers,
missing not a beat, a note, a loss.
*
Sing for this sunken world continuously,
my one and only
soloist
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 1:01 PM UTC
Melodious, luminous
a small plumage of sounds
Found you, fond of you
The first string laid across the back of Spring, you sing
till my eyes grow rusted and my limbs frost with moss,
you perch still upon the branches of my broken fingers,
missing not a beat, a note, a loss.
*
Sing for this sunken world continuously,
my one and only
soloist
