An old man sits at the rear of a dusky cavern,
dressed in a suit and hot pink tie. He listens intently
to the dexterous fingerwork of the young guitarist on his left,
mining with his ears for something that might appear
behind the notes. Every now and then he claps and rubs
his thick hands together, as if warming them before a fire.
As an earthquake sends tremors through the earth, his mouth
sends a wail through the walls––like a Tibetan chant
or the clang of a gong––summoning
oscillations that first made stone, stone.
The man to his right is roused like a giant
from sleep. Towering over a half-created world
he raises his arms, greets the morning sun.
Kyanite eyes peer down into a crystalline earth
and he stamps out countless valleys.
The guitarist continues to strum,
fans a breeze through summer fields
into the chamber where we sit:
hearing the scents of wild flowers
that open in the night.
‘Flamenco Trio’ appears on p. 34 of the author’s collection Paths of Flight (Black Pepper, 2013).
Luke Fischer’s poems startle me to wake again, to wake not only to the thriving details of the worlds surrounding us but to the power of language to reveal the music simmering and alive in every moment. I don’t know which I admire more—the intensity of the reality in Paths of Flight or the surprises of language that come in so many of the poems throughout. These two elements, when bound together in Fischer’s poetry, are enthralling and enduring. Pattiann Rogers
Paths of Flight can be purchased directly through the Black Pepper website: http://blackpepperpublishing.com/fischerpof.html (postage is free)