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I do feel music and it feels like a twinkling eye,
like his talk, his laugh and his improper sigh.
like my grandmother’s wrinkled arm over my face.
like a guilty hunter after a victorious chase.
If I could see music, how would it look?
like an enticing and an interesting book.
like splashes of purple and silver blue
like falling mountains on a lazy hue.
If I could touch music, how would it feel?
like the creamy fillings in a hearty meal.
like roses wrapped up in satin scarves.
like the soft skin of a baby’s calves.
So many emotions, so much to absorb
all of them, waiting like an anxious mob.
I tell them, I can but pick a few
Listening is all I can do.



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