the camellia rag

the camellia rag
 
the spinet piano transmogrified to dormant tree:
an A# diminished scale’s black and white keys
tumbling into this January sky—

there is nothing to resist:
hoarfrost on green lawns, a single camellia bloom
dangles in a welter of branches, a red quarter note.

exuberant felt hammers,
the song sparrows in their boxwood hedges—
the syncopation of breath & step & peripheral vision,

the many walks I’ve taken down this very street
with you, yes, you! arpeggiated white key chords
from the left hand, the right hand’s

fingers holding the promised first camellias
before their season, but barely. holding an envelope
with its cancelled stamp,

holding a ginger snap, holding dozens of
black and white abstractions against the blue
where apartment houseplants gesticulate to the tune.



AK Barkley
© 2013



Image links to its source
Camellia Japonica: from Flore des serres et des jardins de l'Europe: Louis Van Houtte, 1860s. Wiki Commons – public domain