David Whalen (5/18/38 / Covington Kentucky)

It's not lyrics…but
whispers
That lie ‘neath the melody

Ghostly murmurs that
haunt
the refrain

Sursurrant sounds
That surge
And then melt

Whispers not heard but
more chillingly
…'Felt'…

As tingles and ripples
Of black fingernail
Making

Minor chords that caress,
And then go
Raking….

Up spine and then
Spider
cross brain

A musical medly
Of whispers
And melody

Song fashioned by phantoms
From mist
…Icicles and rain…