Neil Reeder
Adagio
Now, when it carries no threats I cannot handle,
and any promises it makes have shrunken
from treasure trove to trinket, ordained to maybes,
when I'm trying late to understand
what fears and jealousies and hopes were in him,
now, when time has almost won
and cigarette corrosion crept in to stay
I listen to the music that remains in this voice:
toughly smooth like whiskey mellowed,
harmony that blends a growl of promise gone,
powerful torque led aimlessly in circles,
river song whose echo passed to me.
Page(s) 20
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