on PBS, 1980 concert
with her in rose blouse and pants and ruby
slippers (and what they mean in Filmdom), her
eye shadow matching her violet belt,
that voice exploding roses and shattering
diamonds. How can you not help but cry
knowing that voice is still now, suffering
from rare palsy. But in 1980
she is melting gold and the audience,
the Cold War and pollution far away.
I’m praying for her now, wherever she’s
locked down away from virus. I pray
for us all in this new Cold War, chorus
of angels adoring sound of her voice.
Roger Armbrust
May 30, 2020
