Cello
There was music
around her;
notes playing
in the silver air;
she exhales
close to my
upturned face.
Her shape,
a fine
brown cello,
her low voice
singing
each word-note
coming
in a whispering moan.
My bow string
draws out her chords
harmonizing,
flowing into to me.
siren-like.
Arpeggio
hair braids
trail away;
clef note eyes
glow
with the white heat
which rises
in the sparkle dust
of her melodies singing.
She bends toward me
cascading,
double breasted
notes;
her arms
flower petals
unfolding from side to side;
mouth parting slightly
breathing warm air.
She sang
to my soul,
cello style.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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