Arm in Arm
This patience might be music. Like basso continuo, the listener supports and responds without pressing for harmonic change. At last, we arrive at our destination, a cadence. I take your arm in mine. Now you speak gently, and make me laugh. I feel such joy at our camaraderie.
The Drunken Poet and the Moon
The simulacrum of the moon arrived in a flat pack; no sphere, just a disc. It was effective once positioned correctly, but the light was too steady. Adding wind and cloud and branches took years. As I gaze at the simulacrum each night, I cannot but think of further improvements. It has become my life’s work.
