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Birch Keys #2, 24x24, collage on panel,
Grand Bohemian Gallery, Asheville NC
©St.Hilaire Nelson
Chopin
i have listened to chopin
19th century musical genius
on a rainy new england afternoon
i just came from the river
my skin is red and burning for warmth
i have listented to chopin
as i draw treble clefs on the condensation
watch the heavier bits begin to tumble
roll down the face of the bus window
growing and growing
until they reach the sill
i have listened to chopin
and i wonder that life must be the same way
we begin from a bit of sheet music
some divine symphony
traced into condensation
on the windows of time and existence
i have listened to chopin.
i have listened to chopin
19th century musical genius
on a rainy new england afternoon
i just came from the river
my skin is red and burning for warmth
i have listented to chopin
as i draw treble clefs on the condensation
watch the heavier bits begin to tumble
roll down the face of the bus window
growing and growing
until they reach the sill
i have listened to chopin
and i wonder that life must be the same way
we begin from a bit of sheet music
some divine symphony
traced into condensation
on the windows of time and existence
i have listened to chopin.
I just love this poem. Ironically, McCrae is another New Englander (from CT) who has been transplanted to the South, she now lives in Alabama and is a Vessel Inspector with the US Coast Guard. I met McCrae through Israel J. Parker, author of The Anne Marie. You can read more of her poetry on Israel's blog.
McCrae T. Harrison, poet
