Your fingers tune the bow to maple's time
Birch bark flakes where your knuckles climb
Carousel horses hold their frozen breath
You play for roots no tourist disturbs to death
Dormant carousel spins in your tune
Feral aria blooms beneath the moon
No ticket takers, no neon ghosts
Just you and the music the soil hosts
Snowberry blushes purple on the midway
Red osier dogwood bleeds where children play
Coaster tracks trace bare branches overhead
Your melody walks where the living dead
Dormant carousel spins in your tune
Feral aria blooms beneath the moon
No ticket takers, no neon ghosts
Just you and the music the soil hosts
White pine needles cushion every note
Red cedar shelters round your wool coat
Midway games rot under fungal thread
You bow to rhythms where the silence led
Dormant carousel spins in your tune
Feral aria blooms beneath the moon
No ticket takers, no neon ghosts
Just you and the music the soil hosts
Witch hazel blooms in October's chill
Franklinia extinct but blooming still
Your violin sings what textbooks omit
Witness to seasons no calendar fit
Dawn redwood stands sentinel in mist
Ginkgo drops fans where the light gets kissed
You play until sap retreats down deep
Until the last note returns to sleep
Shagbark hickory holds your violin case
Beech skin smooth gray in the fading grace
Spring will wake what winter conceals now
Your watch ends when fiddlehead takes its bow
Dormant carousel spins in your tune
Feral aria blooms beneath the moon
No ticket takers, no neon ghosts
Just you and the music the soil hosts
Dormant carousel spins in your tune
Feral aria blooms beneath the moon
Bow rests on case lined with oak velvet
Silence photosynthesizes in cold air
You walk home through red maple shadows
Carrying the park's quiet concerto
