an aspiration: that my fingers deftly dance
upon my flute-keys with the gentle grace
of the woman braiding her hair in this café
(and to cause this same delight)

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005 at 7:07 pm and is filed under poem. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.