Tonight Euterpe hangs from sinews long
tethered by need,
Her longing intense
as the sun bleeds into cold dark.
Swinging she goes
back and forth like an anxious pendulum,
Her remedy lacks company to cease her sway
dead center.
His fluted song's heard never too late
as he plays her again and again,
to the beat of a night star's burn.
His stain of reproach runs deep
stinging her memory eternal,
keeping her pendulous form asway...
How sad it is, so laden yet so bare
vanquished by ache and mire,
Her soul taken by pure desire.
2-2-06
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