Thursday 19 June 2014

Echo

I have a bubble
of music
swelling inside:
the silent walls,
the cold
structures of silence.
It is a tiny
flame of sound,
a flickering leap
upon the smooth
slabs of concrete.
I saw the rain
fall today
like an army of silent
white deaths.
And I wanted
to join its
fragile drops.
A minor chord
aches,
yes it resonates,
inside a minor heart.
I pressed down
decadently on
the guitar fretboard.
The dark is draped with echo.

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