[1] A carriage is waiting for you two white horses pulling at their reins to race the avenues burnished by evening sun

Viola! you enter the square laughter is jumping into the street from open windows. The clear laughter

Of a woman. You turn your head and look for the voice but the horses gain speed and like a dream

that vanishes as you open your eyes the laugh vanishes. You find yourself in an apple orchard and there stop

to hear the voice of a gradener coming closer and closer down the line of apple trees, singing.

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2004:03:19 Words scribbled in reponse to Vega String Quartet's performance cycle of Beethoven's String Quartets

My Poems