All Night Melody Of Saint-Saëns Poem by Joan Xie

Tonight
clutches to a withered eucalyptus
squeezes the last summer seed
resists, bargains with, condenses, flows
and re-flows
down the stream
with her white smile. Cello.

Inside you
a shape is awake.
It stands up blocking a tiny keyhole on the door.
It flutters its wings.
In your deep throat, a rumbling.

Faraway in the mountain
the howling is receding
You rock back and forth
but nothing happens.
Up the stream with her white smile
The Crying Cello.