The Invisible Violin

Bob, , , ,

An abstract verse brings out the eyes, said the florist.

How one cradles a thunderstorm is philosophy. As is counting your lover’s footsteps on the untuned floor as the footsteps turn into motes in the afternoon light.

Every dream is a superstition that has a lot to say about you.

Do you hear, as well, the climbing notes in the setting sun? The bird-like departure of psychology into the horizon?

A psychology that has the structure of an invisible violin and an imaginary amulet. That with the changing of the seasons will find its way back to you.

14 thoughts on “The Invisible Violin”

  5. I have sat with this for a while and it feels like it has a story behind it. I mean it feels like it has more of a narrative arc than a lot of your poems. It feels melancholy but also beautiful and full of obveration and empathy. The images, as always, make me hold my breath for a moment. Amazing.

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  7. thunder is truly amazing to me. at first when i was really young i got so scared of thunder that i would move all my baseball cards into our tire room in the basement which had thick cement so i thought it could withstand a tornado and then when i got older, i loved going outside during a storm and getting wet and screaming when it thundered. anyway, that’s inspiring the “the bird like departure of psychology” and the “amulets and invisible violin returning” now that feels like spring and it’s been warm as can be the last few days. so great to be outside which is where i’m going right now.

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    1. Thunderstorms as a young kid were terrifying. And I can see why they felt like the gods had a hand in them. The season for me are always a chance to turn over the old. And especially today, it was in the 60’s and sunny.

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