pizzicati

-E-

The moon, in her odd
dance through the clouds, mocks
the abandoned skiff,
snaps its mooring line as if
she might take it fishing.

-A-

Boat-tailed grackles

confuse the                                           telephone line.
                    catenary                   of a
                                     sweep

Their calls, the rusty twanging of a taut wire.

-D-

He speculates about her evening doings
as he takes notice of the stone plectra
she steals from the early bright of shore.

-G-

Due to
Her conceit, the
Spider’s only music
Is the ping of warp as she weaves
Her weft.

-B-

Oscillating strings
        spiral
 the apple
     into the warp
                 of space and time.

Did you not see who plucked them?

-E’-

My heartstrings stand still—
vibrate as you pass.