poem

 ViolinsOf the woodwinds, violins are sexiest —That narrow tapered waist,The thin neck emerging from the upper boutLike a bare calf beneath a skirtTerminating in the carved scrollLike toes curled into the carpet.The plaintive sounds seem to comeFrom the dark holes of your eyesWith my hands wrapped around Your stringed fingerboard.I whisper this is making loveInto mysterious dark portalsWithout knowing where the words go.Oh if we could make this lastTo somehow forget for a few minutesMore that this is the same song playedOn the day of all death,Not as surging climaxBut somber adagio for strings Swelling to bittersweet shatteringTwo sides of the same cadenzaTossed as a coin into the void Flipping as it falls From death to love,And love unto death.8/27/23

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - August 27, 2023 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs