Frisson


FRISSON



(for Walter Liniger)



Each Alpine snowflake falling

assaults memory  ---



your eyes

obliged to see

in every mirror, however Swiss,

James "Son" Thomas,

who one night

anatomized your soul

(so you confessed in an afternoon

of profoundest truth),

and the pain you fled

in unfettered alarm

as a blues became a jazz,

as an agony became a balm.



Yes, in these  late years

memory assaults

our youth

(words between us

in music, in air);

each Alpine snowflake falling

is gravitas

pulling us, eyes and all,

into the mirror of no return

to sweat an eternity

once our blues is our jazz,

our agony, forever our balm.





Jerry W. Ward, Jr.                            February 8, 2019


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