I have another idea for a response to this daily post, and if I have time today I will get back to write it. But the instrument response also put me in mind of this piece I wrote, sometime in 2011.
Tempo Rubato
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The sun dripped spots across my skin,
far-flung freckles in browns,
perfect pencil-tipped rounded map.
With fingertips, teneramente,
you trace them into outlines.
This shape, looped up and back around;
It is a treble clef, and this other-
up, across, back down –
whole note quavers.
Tremolo.
We wait, each year, for a few days
of gilded sunlight and whispered song.
This is how a decade passes;
moments bound in rosewood boxes,
no strings attached to frets,
no chords for strumming.
Still we anticipate the sun’s return
for months we measure,
count time in beats,
so we can sing.
copyright Victoria Kelsey
Transitions 