Sunday, 6 April 2014

Fragments of red: the last song

The responses

the ledger in a dusty lodge
grandfather’s spidery entries
the cover twitching
notes inside from monastery
and Turkish blue

chained library in a cathedral
what was valuable?
medical texts
and Saxon riddles sewn together
through the passion

a legal room of tomes towering
and a still court plane tree
a clerk puzzled
by melodies
he cannot place

these words wrapped in music
hidden in shelves
and boxes webbed and smoked
vibrate to the palm
walk of holy week

no one believes any more
but the tune sung
by the absent librarian
is answered

pieces all over the world

Bridget Khursheed

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