when bamboo sings clouds
cast giants
against rimrock water
curves stone
into deep
bowls trees
like bodies exhausted
in love or a child falling in
to his first
when bamboo sings
moth flickers
in mimosa
smoke from fields of cut
grass domes
the sky corn
dried in sun blossoms red
wine on tongue
when bamboo
two horses lean their great
heads across a road-
side fence mosquitoes
hum against skin seeking
the moon’s blood

when bamboo sings the dead
walk through dreams nudge
us awake

– first published in Fireweed


One comment on “flute

  1. j.h. white says:

    “When faced with a choice between sound or meaning, choose sound.” I’m listening and hearing both. Thanks Frank 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s