Liza Sings


you wouldn’t think it to look at her,   you
wouldn’t think it in conversation,   her
hoarse voice little and more a belched whisper
than anything,     but when Liza sings,   o!
when Liza sings,     it’s something magical
angelic in a measured passion wild
and breaking free of a nested cage   —   she
starts out timid,   voice fluttering wings at that
cage door’s wide horizon,   then leaps heroic
into big blue skies and tears heaven’s veil
wide open to climb into nebulae,   sing
choruses to wring the heart melodious   . . .
and the only hint you’ll note before her song
is the argent flecks in her sapphire eyes.

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