A Bach Fugue
A contrapuntal harmony made from pure
singing mathematical light.
The music cannot be denied,
it flows on like a silk dragon
over rolling savanna.
The hairs in my ears begin to dance,
the notes are calling out prismatic stars,
not the ones we see
but suns born in the shadowy cells
of our own fallen angels.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment