Accordion

Sometimes

I feel


like an accordion

squeezed

by some

disembodied self


each chord

vibrates bruised reeds

each inspiration

teases out


a latent voice –

rarely

to be sustained –

almost as if


it chokes

on its own

respiration.


Malcolm Evison

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This entry was posted in POETRY. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Accordion

  1. penny says:

    Very good, as always, Mal. I can almost feel it. Take care, Pen.

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