if I had a violin
I'd only play
the saddest songs
maybe a dirge
a clergy of tunes
something melancholy
a tiara of poems
like a crowned dying bird
might bravely sing
if I had a violin
each precious string
strung to my defeated heart
might be frighteningly due
what I rightly want to say
something brave and true
unabashedly saying
right from some unruly start
brash notes and chords
according to chanting
hauntingly digging
my deep cold grave
so this changing world
deciding if sky and ocean
will recover pristine blue
or finally be over
when sovereign violins
including four leaf clover
surely cannot be saved
even grieving violin strings
sadly will be lost
scads of righteousness too
eternity ensconced in heaven's enclave
buried frightfully deep
lost in creation's universal grave

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