BLOSSOM OF SNOW


Beethoven would hammer the point home
with a thunderous overture
Chopin would play a nocturne gently by your side
Manuel de Falla would have you prancing like a pony
at the Spanish riding school in Vienna.
Me, I'll strum Edelweiss
and compare you to a blossom of snow.



TOMORROW


When dark imaginings cloud your horizon
when Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique symphony no. 6
mirrors your melancholy mood
may you write a poem as sublime
as Mozart’s Elvira Madigan
as sprightly as his Turkish Rondo.

Tomorrow, may your fingers glide across the keyboard,
and leave sleek gondolas in their wake...