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.

©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn
[revised 19 April 2013)

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