The Flute
from the far reaches
of enfolded time
the sound
of the flute
has come down to us
whether from the
dark mystery of woods
from moorland
river banks
or the murmuring of streams
it is a solitary sound
the sound of tears
and heartbreak
of love
and of laughter
what other instrument
can better emulate
the voice at dusk
of calling birds
or the belling
of curlews from
lonely places
and now my home
echoes
to your fluting
note by
trembling note
as you draw aside
for me
the curtains
of your
soliloquy
– – – – cameron – – – –
