Song

 

When you read this

it will be blank,

the wind will be silent.

 

We will not know,

our throats cut

like this,

like the black sheep

in the trees.

 

The structures

will sing

in her voice,

but not according

to the alphabet.

 

Change and change.

 

The exaltations pacify

what the world longs for.

 

              --------Michael Wurster

 

 

Michael Wurster is the author of two books of poetry and he is the founder-organizer of Pittsburgh Poetry Exchange.

 

<-- PREVIOUS                              NEXT-->

content © - Michael Wurster
Music: H P Chourasia © - All India Radio

Painting: In Capable Hands © - Elizabeth Buckley