It is afternoon and the rain
is teaching me music.
No sounds. I feel the clarity
of its song as if rain

were rain and not a symbol
for sorrow. In the frankness
of bad weather, my old guitar
calls to me with its silence.

Under this sky, the dark blue world:
between the hue of shadow
and cloud — as if playing a chord
could make a man feel cold

under his coat. On days like these,
I realize, every silent string
wants to dance with fingers
to the Earth’s invisible song

telling us to be honest.
And I am here, thinking of you,
Rozette, and the guitar,
which has a language of its own.

I want this song to touch you
like raindrops on your favorite dress.
I want to teach you
the language of music

and its many words for distance,
and its many words for love.

2 thoughts on “Song

    1. Your comment makes me happy/embarrassed. Or embarrassed at how happy I am.

      You can be happy at how embarrassed I am.

      Now passing on the awkwardness to you, cookie dough. Ehehe. ❤


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