saw you hanging from a tree

I bowed upon the stroke.

There was nothing but this night

and I was happy then. Who knows

 

the poetry composed

that night lost in the gaps

between the stars? I strummed

 

six golden strings,

but never nailed it.

Peter, Jude –

 

I too have walked home,

got lost in the mist of a lit

lamp post; failed

 

to imagine myself

some years from now

anywhere but here.

 

I heard the stirring

strings of a string

quartet, which hurt,

 

and which I could not

express in words.

 

17-18 March 2016

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4 thoughts on “saw you hanging from a tree”

  1. Flattered to be called forth in such a poem, Marco. That string quartet, ‘which hurt’ might well have been one of Beethoven’s, so I guess. This shines back and forth between its stanzas. I feel I know well:
    the poetry composed
    that night lost in the gaps
    between the stars? I strummed

    six golden strings,
    but never nailed it.

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