Two Pines

Every circus, concert, play is best
viewed from a specific location unique to that venue.

Sometimes I need to be close:
...enough to hear the dancers grunt and gasp
...enough to see a drop of sweaty snot hang from Dylan’s nose and quiver as he stretches for a familiar phrase.
...enough to see the rosin fly
from Gerry Holland’s bow as he calls down time’s own tune.

Other times I prefer to look down:
...upon the bosom of an actress consumed with passion.
...into the pit where musical fingers await the next cue
...over the tape which marks the spot for a love seat among the crafted shadows.

In time I would like to find myself beneath two pines
...which stand in a long embrace
on a small hill overlooking the sail-marked bay.


July 16/01