violin vine

now i’ve a fiddle in my head
playing an old engrained score
indexed pulled back from crufty lore
by a single word i’ve read

once hauled up from the abyss
polished into glowing gems
tattered fabric sewn up at the hems
tune plays free of needle tube and hiss

two meters from the dazzling bow
twister whisked Kansas to Maryland
finally first hand witnessed this fluid band
cells echo reverberations of the show

every hair feels the vibrato
words the cream rich music does churn
pushed past the point of know return
supersaturated resonant umbos

mind comes back from the city limits
music like carrier pigeons
flying through forgotten aeons
toting memories bound like anklets

past and prescience deftly blend
whisked away by vacuum mind
wicked up by tunes entwined
water vapor in the desert wind

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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2 Responses to violin vine

  1. Mike says:

    This whole opus just reverbzzz. Totally. Your language crosses over into soundwaves and I caught every aural pulse and pitch, something you must be immensely proud of. I’m not sure that I’ve ever read a piece like it. Twisters indeed! Very well dine.


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