Fiddle (Concrete Poetry – shaped poem)

We

 Lay

In the space

Between

 Fallen

 Trees

Hued

Hollow,

And honed

Limbs sculpted,

Into serpentine curls

Outlined in ebony filigree

I pour the music of my soul

Into your lonely hollow places

The sound of mahogany red

The shape of time

Silver bound

On the wires

Where we dance

Fingertips playing

Pulled close to your body

I draw you in, breath and bow

Exhale, down stroke resonating

With the pounding ache of love

Bearing us to a place where

 The time cannot be

Measured

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017

Photo: Violin

 

 

11 thoughts on “Fiddle (Concrete Poetry – shaped poem)

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