Carlos Carty Making Magic
Kingsbrae 8.1
Flute
(for Carlos Carty)
Songs without words:
a black alpaca rolling on green grass,
two deer dashing across the lawn,
three Indian Runner Ducks actually running,
four tents, canopies billowing beneath the sun,
Passamaquoddy stretched out before me,
a dark island stark in the bay,
sunlight descending a ladder of cloud.
Song without words without end:
music of wind through rock,
waves lapping against stones,
a breeze tapping rhythm from river reeds,
plucked and pierced, the reeds:
the world’s first flute.
Life and breath are one.
The young man opening the water bottles,
sipping the right amount, pursing his lips,
blowing into the bottle neck,
making sweet music:
a song of joy.
rogermoorepoet 
That is absolutely beautiful, Roger!
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Thank you so much, Miss Meghan. Carlos is an inspiration: easy to write for and with.
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Wonderful!
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Lovely last stanza. Have heard the wind playing the ‘flute’ on bottles buried to their necks in sand.
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Wish I’d read that image of yours before the poem was finished. It’s a great one. Good starter for your own poem, unless I nick it!!!
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It’s all yours. I think I used it in a piece of fiction / prose about kids on the shore.
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Now that is tempting … you’ve got me thinking …
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So many beautiful lines conjure up atmosphere…such as: ‘a breeze tapping rhythm from river reeds’
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Thanks, Janice. It was indeed a poem of tiny, peaceful things, but things that make life so pleasant … and here we have the time to enjoy and appreciate and celebrate them once more.
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All the beautiful things in life…
This piece makes me fall in love with the little things again!
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Thank you, Tanya: a nice compliment and much appreciated. I am falling behind with my reading, but the creativity is running wild. I have gained somehow a new sense of allegory, double meaning, and metaphor. Sometimes, they all blend together …
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I’m in a similar place, Roger! I have only read a fraction of the blogs I want to read, but I’m getting a lot of work done. Happy that we can share a good writing “season”!
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It is a wonderful writing season. I have time and energy for new work, and when the new works stalls for an hour or two (!), I can look back n the old work and revise the best of it. This is quite simply a great place to be and I feel that I have been, and am, so lucky.
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