Blue Summer – Sonnet No. 1 (Prelude)

Foreword

There is a rough black box shaped just like you-
Smartly fitting your folds and corners:
Deep shining maple body.
This long slender noble neck that
Gracefully touches your proud wide stern
Smooth and gleaming, play needs just a touch.
I watch the sweep of you through your narrow centre bouts
My hands on your Cs, thumbs tracing your perfect F.
Supple, wooden beauty, craftmanship pure
An earthy laugh vibrating your tightly-held strings.
Let me cup you, let me kiss your long, long
languid jut of a bottom bout, fluidly peaking in a single point:
The rest is still and solid- my cello- my muse- but your eyes-
Your eyes are two brown swallows, at any moment due to fly.

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