portion of the artwork for AE Reiff's poetry

The Sound of Light
AE Reiff

The sound of light wakes up and down
echoed in silence alone.
Layered as a symphony might
I type, but sound does not broadcast light
To keep in shouts and groans,
it stands alone.

To figure the days it has been out,
The decade sublunar years I count,
One octave cry, a wave, a chord.
Toes sing, hands dance as might
a hymnist who plays on moss,
eyes shining in halls,
whose fingers are heard through walls.


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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 57 | Spring/Summer 2021