Matt McBride

 

 

The piano sounds like rain

inside the crystal ballroom.

A dial tone of violins,

crystal too,

with their sin of strings

pulled from the bellies of lambs.

Our tongues all rowboats

without oars.

Our shadows untether.

And the moon is rolled out

of its great stable.

And the fields are a run

of freshly made beds.

What’s it like to be alone?

We liken it to a balloon.

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The last two lines of this poem are from Valerie June's cover of "Cosmic Dancer."

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Devorah Baum

Matt Hanson