Suite: Night/Dance in the Horizon

IV. Whirlwind in my Ear

i hear a broken chord
through thin, pining rifts
float soft, slow, to the ground
unnoticed

              it is plaster dust
that fills my ears, downy-dust
shed from the skin of dead
musicians, skin chipped from
motions forced

                  when i fall
into the melody, i twist to get
out

    no one can hear me,
asleep as they are (they snore
when the night is heaviest)

                              but

i twirl, my skin breathes mist--
my skin breathes music

      III. The River Coursing the Moon

      V. Court Gavotte

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