soft thread of tune
beyond humming
still the attempt
*
though the musician
is long, long gone
strands of dark arpeggios
tucked
in my hair
*
because
he once played
that Bach prelude
I feel now so
beautiful
*
long after
the listening
still listening
*
almost like lips
bruised from a night of kissing
my ears this morning after
The sequel, only in America! A perfect response to the previous. “the listening / still listening” is the right phrase, and the passion of that last stanza even resonates with the previous poem, though it certainly finalizes this one!
“still listen” “still” as in “continues” or “calm and quiet, attentive”? i read it as both. and what a lush positive spin on the “morning after”! some pains, and bruises, are worth the receiving. also love the image of the music being tucked into your hair—it’s become entwined with you. (“how to tell the dancer from the dance?”)
and, caramba, there’s such a story in the third, middle, stanza:
because
he once played
that Bach prelude
I feel now so
beautiful.