Sport 31: Spring 2003
The Violinist in Spring
The Violinist in Spring
A brightness illuminates my heart,
like two pots of tea, drunk quick.
In the Botanical Gardens
the daffodils are pushing through
and the river walks along beside,
guides me like a toreador
with flashes of light
and knowledge
is imprinted in my hands.
The gist of all my meaning
is kept here, and everything
can be understood
in the quick at the turning-point
of the joint of wrist or finger.
I hold my hands out from me
as if they are holding light
as if this might be taken from me.