Monday, January 7, 2013

Long, Long Ago

Long, Long Ago,
On a cello played,
Flushed the ducks
And they flew away
From yet another bow.

A horsehair bow
Tickling their wings
Like a horse swats a fly.

A rosined bow
Aiming sine waves
Not arrows.

My bow
My heartstrings'
Shared vibrations.

As the ducks return,
Their settling on the pond
Creates in me
déjá vu
Like they used to do
Long, long ago.