Eudaimonia

~

The birds all fall

into accolades,

on the mornings

of Central Virginia.

~

Colorful chorals

that can escalade –

     pro forma,

     concerti,

     eudaimonia.

 ~

On and on,

no stoppage of song,

way long

after morning’s forgotten.

~

All in all, a sound,

a melodious funk;

as it rises

right into

the mountains!

~

I

might hear

Thelonius Monk.

~

You?

you hear your Haydyn.

~

And the day thus begins

the same way it ends –

 

     in pro forma,

     by concerti,

     Eudaimonia.

 

 

[revised 19 April 2013)

©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn

 

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