Chopin at 25, by Maria Wodzińska, 1835 |
CHOPIN
AND SAND
for
Frederic Chopin, 1810-1849
by Austin Alexis
A man coughing up blood
on a white keyboard.
A woman taking care
of him.
A woman adding a man
to her case, her
collection
and at last having
something to do,
a person who becomes
an activity.
He lives in her
shawl.
He lives on her
shelf.
She frowns, afraid he
might chip
or crack in two or
scar.
He lives in her nest.
She is all leaves.
She is plenty of
twigs.
His fingers sing for
her;
they chirp; they fly.
She is the maple his
claws grip,
the branch he needs
in order to soar.
He desires her as she
longs for him.
They are as far apart
as petals of a single
rose.
This poetry selection is from Austin Alexis's book, For Lincoln & Other Poems (Poets Wear Prada 2010), and also appeared in Chopin with Cherries: A Tribute in Verse, edited by Maja Trochimczyk (Moonrise Press, 2010).
No comments:
Post a Comment