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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