Theodore Enslin

(1925 - 2011)

The Glass Harmonica - Poem by Theodore Enslin

It snowed in far country
north and
beyond the trees.
As I went through the mirror
my breath froze
clouding it,
and they saw me no longer
in the villages of spring.
I walked alone
across level plains,
and my tracks disappeared
in the snow which went with me.
A wind rose
playing on harpstrings
and reeds.
There was nothing there, and my fingers
touched ice.
A music
a music
an echo of music—
sound not a sound
in the quiet north country—
the snow.

Comments about The Glass Harmonica by Theodore Enslin

  • Seamus O' Brian (11/13/2016 11:13:00 PM)

    Haunting. The quiet of the snow laden world that might inhale you like the fog of a breath and leave no trace behind. (Report) Reply

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  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (11/13/2016 4:45:00 AM)

    Refreshing poem.Nicely thought n written.10 (Report) Reply

  • Indira Renganathan (11/13/2016 2:42:00 AM)

    A surrealistic imagination....snow or anything else of nature is music in different shades of scales and pitch...
    great- 10
    (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (11/13/2016 1:56:00 AM)

    Beyond the trees! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (11/13/2016 1:40:00 AM)

    Music makes one's soul strong enough to face the chaos of fhd world.... (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, July 13, 2016

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