Sappho in Concert

Like any man I am too much shield and spear
to delight her. My pleasure is arranging another
and another nubile audience, setting the stage

for Sappho in concert—that husky alto,
laughter rippling her bared throat, the rush of
blood to her face and arms,

the blur of her fingers on the lyre, then just one
finger trembling, vibrato on the gut
for a chosen one. I wait beyond her boudoir

and when the tongue of love turns to verse, I—
take dictation. Time will turn her to fragments
all too soon. I save what I can. This is my love.

Copyright © 2005 Rennie McQuilkin All rights reserved
from Private Collection
Antrim House
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission