Another for April, thinking we might get more of the unusual April showers today. First appeared in Pirene's Fountain:
Mesmer
Rain can be like Chopin,
all piano strings
and syncopated pauses, geometry
of blings under wheels
and rubber heels. A bliss
baptism from branches.
Drooled harmonies.
On your neck, wet
kisses slithering. Rings
around plop into pools:
ting, ting, ting, ting. Scriabin
zithering loss up your edges,
then his departure’s
sudden, cold feathering.
And one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems, which I hope to memorize:
HE fumbles at your spirit
As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on;
He stuns you by degrees,
Prepares your brittle substance
For the ethereal blow,
By fainter hammers, further heard,
Then nearer, then so slow
Your breath has time to straighten,
Your brain to bubble cool,—
Deals one imperial thunderbolt
That scalps your naked soul.