LA BOHEME
An
orchestra of snow
calms the sullen beast
of
earth
with
breath and wind
resembling
this particular
heartache.
Each
flake
enters
scheme
each eccentric
a soul
lost
exultant
in its own
elegant art.
The pathway
a world
surprisingly
narrow
an entrance to mind spiral
where search
wanders
without judgment to the music
its calling card
to
connect the world __
to__
itself
wanting fusion with mass
instead of __this__
white
well to the right
of the octave.
So it
lies
on the banks of
the tragic
me_me
having spiraled down
to
ground level
knowing
the boundary
that is earth
always
resists
unlike the frozen
abstraction
of air
and
what it sought there
its glimmerglass reflection
the risefall of sparrows
with the ache to become
drift or dissolve
fully knowing
they will take away
its room
because
it took up too much snow
and then
they will take away
the snow
because
it took up too much room
as
the
timely and unspeakable
hand of
God lets
the
pink bonnet tumble
fully knowing
our
favorite heartaches
are never
settled in garrets
but
on the dancefloor.