Centuries removed from the first raspy sounds
An interval defiant
of sense -
Puzzlements disengage one from the other,
Complimentary
systems anticipate
Confluence of time and its song.
-- Cheryl Emerson 6/23/14
Yet another case. You worry
that they’ll get unhinged.
And when
you look beyond
their hard exterior,
what you find
is lots
of empty space
where something brilliant’s
missing. It’s disconcerting
to
be surrounded
by all these cases
until you realize
that deep
inside they’re all
quite fuzzy.
-- Eric Braude, June 2015
They built two boxlike buildings there,
almost facing off. One they
fill
with fifty fulsome flutists, the other’s
stocked with sixty lusty
saxophones.
It seems when someone bangs a gong, both boxes
suddenly erupt, scaring
birds of every stripe,
the bears, and every other living beast. Just
once a day
those aching acres rest in peace: when they’re asleep.
By natural selection, only birds
with stomachs fit for saxophone and
flute
come back year after year. The rest
stay well away, content
with tamer acres, waiting.
When it seems the last of them has left,
a bear checks every single
car. A bird’s called down
to spread the news. For then, and only then,
do
all those gorgeous acres go absolutely wild.
-- Eric Braude
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