When music is far enough away
the eyelid does not often moveand objects are still as lavender
without breath or distant rejoinder.The cloud is then so subtly dragged
away by the silver flying machinethat the thought of it alone echoes
unbelievably; the sound of the motor fallslike a coin toward the ocean's floor
and the eye does not flickeras it does when in the loud sun a coin
rises and nicks the near air. Now,slowly, the heart breathes to music
while the coins lie in wet yellow sand.