Salut d’Amore

Elgar’s Love Salutations is playing
while mother robin flies off
to dig worms for her newborns.
Pipers drift and gulls drone intoning his
violins, sweet melodies of love & cries.

Amid barely audible waves lapping, the quiet fall
of small sounds, the artist’s tears are dammed
for all he understands.
Sadness and its darkness
mix with inherited beauty.
While heading to the finish line.
with no chemicals, with anxiousness,
Will he make it or fall somewhere short?

He is useless in his lack of tradition,
having broken the chain. Running
from death with selfish gestures.
There is no choice but to pray.

Dear Virgin of Guadalupe,
Crank up the music.