Thursday, December 8, 2011

Concert Repertoire

A miracle always seems so ordinary,
no trumpets blown,  heraldic announcements,
a plum appears where a blossom was
on a branch that was dead since before
last Christmas,

through black emptiness, a falling star
blazes for an instant through Ursa Major,

on a walk she slips her hand in yours
and gives her life away,

across a green field, a golden horse
grazes, turning grass into muscle and grace,

an eagle soars, a poem is half remembered,
no trumpets,
                                    wind rustles a symphony of leaves.


  1. Love this, Charlie. It's so true. I'm glad to have found your blog from your comment on my post on the Word Guild blog.
    Blessings, Marcia Laycock