disembodied (they aren't whispering) voices & the piano in winter's trees

(part III)

across pastures
timber's edge sound
just don't know
beauty is as fine tiny shine
sun runs dancing up close
sometimes dangling from sharp wire

squirrels to & from
bouncing hopping tails

females talking
this small gathering promises
the loneliest music
a veil where some get in

the old house stands gray
spirits in gibberish
walls pound
limb to limb each branch catches from where it is we came

unintelligible throughout the ages from where their heartbeat ceased
the ground there is not cold but not there at all
keys to the house theirs forever
piano keys their ongoing song
trees collect like china dolls falling

for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."

Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
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