Engulfing, translucent lights
tripping through the glass
refractory color vibrates in the sound
[of music]
dust sparks float through the rays
like mayflies enthralled
by the vivid curtain...
no wind, just light...and music
in the corner withstands, unharmed
the gramophone, in it's vintage glory
so tall standing on an ivory stall
supposedly to be moved
but forgotten in place...
subtle, perfect in the midday sun
an old song fills the room
the voices melt in the lukewarm air
light cracks interrupt the harmony
[never falling off key]
as a natural response
for the surreally fluidly performing orchestra
and i sit there, dreaming...
[projected in the mirror, i find them
soaring
as light as a grain of dust,
in a perfect synchrony,
dancing their way
down onto my lashes...]
~the concerto swooned into a lullaby~
