To Express a Thought

 

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A thought wants me to express it, but no
words come—not from honey nor from hunger.
The thought escapes assemblage and sculpture,
so I’m moved to try lighter fleeting arts
like music and dance—words optional—or
mime: 

A solitary figure in baby blue, gender unknown, yearns toward light coming in high basement windows, and the figure moves slowly, faster, slow again.  A second ungendered figure in light blue leans in one window and plays saxophone as if singing to the central figure, who, startled, stops yearning and sits down to listen.  A third figure in darker blue climbs from another window into the basement, touches, and sits facing the central figure.  The two lean in to touch forehead to forehead.  Then the sax player leaves and silence descends.  The second figure leaves.  Alone again, the central figure is alert, with calm, sure, collected moves, then leaps up, and sways to an open and sweet stop. 

The thought wanting expression is almost

satisfied by the mime.  If only sounds,

figures, costumes, lighting, and set were here, 

they might expand the thought into being. 

Again, let me try words:   

Alone, longing, sound.

Saxophone calls, shadow joins.

Memory kicks in.

 

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright.

© 2023 Susan L. Chast