Tagged: fugue
all day, the rain falls
from the south, at thirty-
from the south, at thirty-
two miles per hour, the wind
stutters a wet toccata
only his mother
could recognize. the
improvisational currents
are so strong, even
sleep has pulled away
.
20130131:0313
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the things i saw
the things i saw
on the way
to you –
the moon facing
off the rising
sun in a
gunslinging
moment, lightning
draws; a flock of
eighth notes sitting
on the D- and F-
lines, the plumpest
glissandi;
a geometry
of light
deciphering a
georgia pine,
a double
fugue revealing
its counterpoint
.
20130101:1151
y
y 