The Nameless Tune

Awoke with a tune in my head —
A few bars, ribbons blue,
floating loose over the bed.

A febrile logic tries and tries again
to place it. What is it ? What name?
A movie score – that Mozart bit from Out of Africa?
An echo from Grieg’s Norse cave?
Straining, impatient, I link up
to other snatched notes.
It’s no use. They fade away free.

Da Capo:

Awoke with the heartbeat of a tune,
awash in the amiotic fluid of an inner ear,
a somersaulting starfish
left on the morning shore
by the receding wave
of dreamless sleep

It is an afterthought offering
rising from some ocean floor.
A child humming to itself, echoeing
in pearl-pink transparence,
caring not if I hear
through sand-clogged ears.

What matters the name?

Those trailing aqua – blue notes
ripple again through sea-foam skin
and the day begins, as it will end,
In an unanswered question;
an anonymous tune

~ Maria Robson

Maria Robson is a Montreal teacher, freelance writer and translator who loves to travel and research, first hand, the nomadic life. She is currently working at Sultan Qaboos University in Oman.

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