When I was twelve I met a famous composer. He told me
melodies would one day be exhausted.
Yet
a single note of lark song drawn into my ear last May
is separated from its recurrence
only by the sameness
of that particular cochlear pair
swooping down
over a meager spread of reeds,
and that portion of life spent waiting for
the rejoining note
to come soaring through the air
from the black bough of the evergreen tree
that casts a blue shadow
on white snow
is also a lie.
David Capps is a philosophy professor at Western Connecticut State University. He is the author of two chapbooks: Poems from the First Voyage (The Nasiona Press, 2019) and A Non-Grecian Non-Urn (Yavanika Press, 2019). He lives in New Haven, Connecticut.