Member-only story
Cottages for Albinoni in G-minor
A poem
Someday, I’ll take a long drive thru the countryside
Classical music on the radio, like the lead in one of those artsy films
Where the operatic score does all the talking. Drive my Japanese sedan
To no purpose, trees bending to the brass section as I go along.
Organs and violins fluttering in my chest; the old birds competing
One for the sun on my arm, one for the shadow on my face.
The Road, smooth as an echo, stretching five bars ahead
Of my likeness in the rear-view; The living photograph
Hung in wooded hallway. Further along, I’ll park upon a rise
By the white cottage with blue windows and single room,
A chair at rest and a rope that sways to the music —
Kill the engine, as the crescendo blows me wide open.
Vic Spandrio 2024