Monday, March 11, 2013

MOZART WHISTLES



MOZART

whistles. . . at the dawn dumpster, disdaining mere

noise, careful with bottle and bag,


a simple aria oboe calls up brightly common

things and vivid colors:  wine-reds, cheese-golds,

apple-greens, bread-browns and garlic-morning-breaths.

And Nanerl, off the leash, in the quick circles

About the mystic flute, wags us joy in freedom,

Yips delight in novel new:  rat, rag, raccoon!

No rondo now mingles with parental gloom, for

tomorrow’s trios free us; while he, seated

at my Yamaha, makes the measured-simple soon sublime.

Though I Cole Porter sing, day and night, revived,

it’s Mozart makes where now I am alive.


(Clicking on photos enlarges them.)

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