Tag: singing
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for Sunday Whirl #277
And Not Only That, The Girl Had No Rhythm Third row up, stood at the end, she draws the tune under the momentum of breath. rum pah tumtum High notes are thin skin, beyond her reach to hit, so she answers the lyrics with those three words — rum pah tumtum She’s rehearsed this far…
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Singing for Poetic Bloomings
Édith Piaf When she sang it was raindrops. Falling diamonds. A firestarter with those drizzling tones. Édith, my Édith, a beacon for angels, who made the saints weep. I know her every song — they were like medicine, cured my heart. Words to stop my furrowing rot. I’d become old — dry wood, but my…
It's Still Life 