The Conductor Raises His Arms
A crackle of expectation,
a silence of suspense,
as the needle touches down on the day,
everything standing up
straight and still,
like iron filings magnetized,
the air blue-veined, faint-lined,
with splashes of static
on gatepost and tile.
A sudden gust of electricity
slakes its thirst
among giant purple stems,
rustles its wings in blessing
and grants us the beauty
of a strange interval.
A dry pink light comes down
and a shadow orchestra
shimmers to life.
The conductor raises his arms
and taps the window sill.
A mist of strings
holds back the overture for a moment.
The grey drone of the lawn
hovers just above the ground,
where a tree prepares its song.
A branch’s two-note cry
sounds over the leaves’ fibrillation.
The sun’s brass section begins
with a fanfare of gold
as the main theme is introduced.
Hugo Williams
a silence of suspense,
as the needle touches down on the day,
everything standing up
straight and still,
like iron filings magnetized,
the air blue-veined, faint-lined,
with splashes of static
on gatepost and tile.
A sudden gust of electricity
slakes its thirst
among giant purple stems,
rustles its wings in blessing
and grants us the beauty
of a strange interval.
A dry pink light comes down
and a shadow orchestra
shimmers to life.
The conductor raises his arms
and taps the window sill.
A mist of strings
holds back the overture for a moment.
The grey drone of the lawn
hovers just above the ground,
where a tree prepares its song.
A branch’s two-note cry
sounds over the leaves’ fibrillation.
The sun’s brass section begins
with a fanfare of gold
as the main theme is introduced.
Hugo Williams
No comments:
Post a Comment