sounds that evoke

Sounds the evoke.

Grace notes from a cello serenade

a contrapunct to whalesong trills, hums, groans and clicks

join and echo in vaulted arches of sacred space

then return seek out and resonate in my solar plexus

encircle anticipation like night fog around a buoy – their

mellow sounds rendered piquant by brine, tide and moonlight filling space

between ebb and surge

sound that is felt, that is touched,

sound as rhythmical as our hips and breaths late at night,

as caressed as a well loved lover held close.

Willie Nelson joins the chorus, croons Stardust Memories in the darkness

their joined sounds  somehow evocative not dissonant,

that penetrate not invade

that summon memory from remote depths

then guides it past traps of analysis, second guesses and interpretation, and

leaves it -

as is -

at my heart’s vestibule where entry need not be sought:

the door is already prised open;

tears are already primed and positioned and

hang at nasal canthus like mussels on rocks in bitter cold tidal surges.