Listening to Beethoven
Some elbow grease
to wake, fight the way
back downstairs,
the way water does.
Stop this thinking
and let the thing go;
Luminous waves
groundwork
the little ship
delivers.
Parts of the sentence somewhere
perk up in answer.
The slow book
that almost sleeps
I call sleep
music book
the circulation of the blood
Beethoven I think knew
a field of rabbits
behind the nannie’s hair.
The book is closed
so the book can hear.
Footsteps back.
Water retraces its steps
and the ruler dreams.
There is no distance left
to keep its galloping away.
No comments:
Post a Comment