I wonder why music has always appealed.
Why from just after time, rhythm and
melody have entranced and befuddled;
Plato to Zwigli; Aristotle to
Something about that sharp
split of air by the long-sustained violin,
or the flute pulsing to breath-beat, veering
off towards separation.
families wailing, but wailing
together, in unison or harmony.
This was quick and (very) dirty. It is heading back towards the dangerous free for all that characterized my early college poems.