The Sound of Music
The hills are not alive. Rather they are
remnants against sunken valleys like blood
following a carried corpse.
With a sound, a child is born. A gurgle,
whisper, crash will signify its death.
No matter how many years are tallied
between the dates, silence is not
She speaks of music and sings
Toi, toi, toi.
Velvet falls and sweeps the proscenium
like a downpour in the desert.