Forest Song

(a poem on the necessity to practice voice)

"Such love as the high gods know
From whose eyes none can hide,
May that never be mine,
To war with a god-lover is not war,
It is despair."
             Aeschylus, Prometheus Bound

I watched you
grow full of suspicions
making guesses weigh more
    get too large
A forest of tall-grown ghosts
whispering their stories.

Lost in the trees
Daphne, too, is not what she seems.
The birds that nest on her branches
never suspect that she
refused the love of a god
becoming virgin laurel.

You said
    I sing you know
Oh, I know you sing
    like a bird, I bet
but not for me
not to me
Then you walked away
toward the trees,
sprouting leaves.

David Swoyer
Contents | Mudlark No. 1
Hardly To A Sheba | For a Friend Having His Tattoo Removed