Listening to Mozart

Allegro assai

I have often thought of this music

in certain ways: That its means are what it means, and no one

should ask more. The tools incised it

intaglio on a whole century---

fused Style Galante into

the blood of a man--- to raise it

height and breadth, and of which

one says singly: Music.

Andantino Grazioso

After four days of rain, the sun

hesitantly above the film edge of a cloud. Brush it away,

as if a cobweb caught the eye,

the light motes of pollen in soft air

pick up the dampness and fall.

-Tentative- a narcissus

in the dooryard.

Tempo di Menuetto

Complete the light---

chance is not random

nor co- incidental.

"There was a man who lived

in our town---"

Oh the measure

the complete

the light.

Presto assai

Because of particular bent -

the associations -

I could say that this

made music homoeopathic

music as I heard it.

The G minor darkness

cured me -thoroughly---

thus as like cures like.

That the substance was the music,

that it made of music

what the music meant.