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Ode to Sibylle Baier
May 26, 2012
Her music raised me
Saved me.
I thought
I listened.
Two voices perfectly blending.
She lost something in the hills.
I lost myself.
I needed to smile.
To say, "This is the end, friend of mine."
I listened once again when forget came.
Two voices perfectly blending.
She told me she dreamt of being in New York City.
Wearing a sweater color green.
I fell.
And awake in a dream.
Her dream.
Two voices perfectly blending.?
© Shira B., Marblehead, MA
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