Song of Her


 

She’s now my melancholy,
my folly
my quarter note
never full.
She’s the one that spun
away
after I played her over and over.

A glissando of whims, wonderment, and woe
up then down
Sliding, ever sliding
to that natural progression
where our music was surely meant to go
Inevitably
to fade, fade, fade, away
and come to
its final
rest.

by Philip Wardlow 2017

5 thoughts on “Song of Her”

  1. THIS IS BRILLIANT! Yes. Yes. Brilliant. I totally know what you are writing here. The photo (fainting) is gorgeous but this is truly one of your best ever poems.
    WRITE WRITE WRITE

      1. Well I love much of your work but I stand by my statement. Interesting as sometimes people will say one of mine is my best and I’m like WTF? But yes I absolutely do believe this – it says how you have been feeling in an uncompromised way and is in that way, so much the core of things. If that’s not a good poem then darn it I have no idea what is!

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