Music Seen
The noise I knew.
Sweet sounds so distant now,
feather bells, lace shiver notes I use to be
no cut complete to mind the memories.
We went there it was their spring, poppy rich fields
ankle deep red. You said it blood and then unsheathed
iron swords their heads to keep, I climbed pinnacle points
arms flayed to steal the sun and the air I breathed.
Caves reprieve ten thousand chanting Monks,
was this the music I had sung? Dark skinned gods
in unison. Lost generations sieved bounds on rocks too shoulder close
the final drive, seined bodies opened and split.
Under brake-beat bones earth quaked and the cold told holds on
whiteboards a golden lute, leather fails no plumule its fate,
doesn’t last, past wheezed hate.
Found your body broken: one eye south another in pain,
death’s end sedation filled gaps between you and me.
In the foreign night I sate nothing my soul mouth screamed,
was this the music I seemed? Ahead and then once more
I sap at Annam’s door.
Michael Stang 2019
