Thursday, January 17, 2013

"...that is the question."

I'm turning into a hardened flirt; 
several hours of every day,
I'm dreaming of surrendering myself.
It's a great temptation.
But, in the meantime, I'm holding 
to the straight and narrow, 
by sharing twilight with a friend
as we talk over the week that's passed;
by delighting in a brass consort,
Venetian music
from four centuries ago.
I delight in feeling connected
to all those who have 
performed, listened to and loved
the same music
for every year of that four hundred.
Thus far, I'm remaining virtuous.

But, winter is coming,
with oppressively leaden skies;
I will be cabin-fevered,
so I'm not making any promises.

1 comment:

  1. It's a beautiful poem. If that's what flirtation brings, may there be more of it, yet I would be so sad to lose you to the one you have in mind. May the winter be gentle and calm and warm.
    Much love,
    PS The letters I have to type to prove I am not a robot include the word 'solar'. How sunny!