Radio Budapest
(for Eva)
Listen – an ancient tremor
is shifting the landscape;
teasing the waves
with her dark barcarolle.
She’s gathering stars
and sinking to baseline;
the static of Radio Budapest
crackling inside her throat.
In the voice of another
she’s as still as a frog –
wrinkled fingers entwined
over dark pleated skirt,
head bowed & weighted
away from the light –
her eyes cutting my words
into sad tiny fragments.
©️ Orion Foote
Visions of Orion Poetry 