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Not a Word Spoken | A Poem by Michael Kagan

A string quartet fills the kitchen
The cello’s bow played through
An heirloom sugar bowl’s sweetness
The harmonic strain so perfect
Makes the pain go away
Not a single word need be said
The sound of the rousing marching band
Flows through the veins of
My narrow halls
Trombones sliding pock marks into plastered walls
Crisp apple cider of this
Trusted music causing my
Knees to kick up the speed
Keeps the pain away,
Words are never spoken
And that funky jazz combo
In my living room
Made themselves a cozy cat’s Home
Cat-nip lines playing tic tac toe forward rhythm flying high
Notes silver shimmer in space until they fade
And beauty does die,
This music ties the earth to my feet
Reaches in, making love
To my heart,
Reflects the invention’s own brand of pain
Pushing other deep aching
Aside
And it speaks without using words
If ever spoken
Would
Rip me open
Exposed to the
Terrifying light.


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