What Music Really Is

 

You said you learned it from a three-year-old,

what music really is — not just the bones,

the melody/harmony/rhythm all rolled

 

into one — that’s just an autopsy. No,

you witnessed it, the music taking hold

of him, possessing his senses — no do-

 

re-mi for this kid, no dissecting tone

and timbre — he meant life, he meant the flow,

melting into it, getting in the zone.

 

                                                        — for Julian

 

 

© Michael Fleming

Marlboro, Vermont

October 2024

 

other shorter poems   sonnets   longer poems

e-mail to Mike   Fox Paws home page