Voices on the Wind Voices on Waiting
Corelli on Second Avenue by James F. Gaines Uncrowded notes warehouse window sad Regular at first as mortared bricks Measure the travelerís step Shivering on barest strings of winter More than the bareheaded youth in jeans Letter sweaterís summer gold already frayed Damp enthusiasm on the pavement Absence makes the heart grow And keep on growing till the ribs Can barely hold together He stops where snow has captured fleeing Light half dancing dogged slush Congeals on sticky cumbersome soles Nearby Edisonís cyclopean breath Pumps ever somber into yielding skies A dull continuo stoked by graveyard shifts But whirling cadences lift him from the ground G major fashioned by the Archangel Pumping his blood with a seasoned joy All through the quagmire of e-sharp traffic Creeping mules in fast forgetting streets Ignoring hints of emptiness in each pause He chases echoes of Christmas long ago Drifting through the crystal ice A melody that lingers in tombstone shadows Reborn in the unquenched sacrificial lamps He hurries to be counted once again