Changed, Remained, Unaltered
A midday moon high up above a bird
That sings from nowhere, everywhere, will soon
Become a paleness in the blue, half slurred
In slighter blue of evening’s later sky.
That afternoon another songbird tied
The time between the noon and twilight scenes
With notes and phrases helping hours slide
Together and apart. Through music’s means
The separate minutes melded into one
Unseparated composition made
Of bright and dark of cleaving colors spun
Between opposing moments, white and shade.
..The singing voices, transitory, shaped
…. A larger, lengthened power which time escaped.
~ Phillip Whidden