Mozart

Improbable yes but I dreamt of him
And though we were indoors
Rain fell and it was beautiful
Water coursing down walls

“We only get so much”
He said—“opera is for the young,”
“String quartets, for dying”
He was alive alright

The dream is an antiquated device
Driven by voices and water
Its parts so ingeniously assembled
We rise and fall through elements
But he kept writing

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by skuusisto