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Scales

Poetry & Prose | February 5, 2012
By Michael Leeper

 

A tune comes through, distorted in my dreams
Some kind of distant melody
A visit from a ghost of another life
But the riff is so faint
Piano my piano

Like a prisoner in death row I await its call
From the radio on a bus or a hole in the wall
Something flew free now echoes inside
In a stained glass soul
Dissonant and holy

Cocoon buzzing on the outskirts of desire
Opens up to wildfire
Swallowed whole by the deepest earth
Murmurs in the dark
Searching and searching