Muse-inspired writing.
Blossom
The musk of charring wood permeates
Staining the sunset with peacock trails of watercolor ash
Forgetful clouds lie in wait
The bark blackens and curls
Crackling threaded between a train whistle
—
Echoes of laughter ringing in the leaves
The train rolls on into the distance
The curtain of nightfall in tow
Car Wheels; the rural ocean
Lapping at the curb
—
Somewhere one window is illuminated
A golden square on a darkened canvas
—
The silhouette is stoic and staring
Profiled in the glow
Listening to each string
(Eyes closed in reverence)
Wondering when
The first person ever had the nerve
To play.
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