Carl Nielsen, composing his overture
while gazing at black Aegean – his eyes
entranced by breaking clouds, dark waves captured
by rippling tongue of white-silver sunrise
blazing now to scarlet gold – sends his strings,
horns and woodwind lifting from melody
to fanfare – their lush marriage enclosing
all: seed of earth, of man to woman, seed
of soul’s creative rising. Down the way,
at the Acropolis Museum, Anne
Marie sculpts her view of Peplos Kore,
focuses to perfect her braids. She can
sense Carl’s fingers caressing violin.
Her tooth chisel kisses the kore’s chin.
Roger Armbrust
May 19, 2015
