Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem- reading a historical mystery April 24, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:01 am
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Small gawky boy

Nose like the beak of an eyas,

I pass a glance to his hands

bronzed and thin upon the table

and find myself time travelling.

Immersed in visions of those hands

Stroking keys, coaxing music,

Mesmerizing me. Those hands

On other arms years ago.

I blink back to now and stare as he stumbles,

Endearingly uncoordinated, into a wall.

I watch him in a crowd, catch the flash of his smile

And am transported into that smile

Gleaming at me in another time

from another face.

Wondering at my sanity,

I check his files,

Find the name I know from long ago

and understand:

History is written in our blood

And carved upon our bones.

The tilt of our heads,

The rhythm of our laughter

The angle of our shoulders,

the shape of our souls,

Are revealed in the genetic mystery

That can be read through time,

by those who see the story.

 

 
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