Symphony, day two NaPoWriMo

If I could, I would drink

the feathery words

of this sky

and pinned there,

willingly die for the right

poems.

Should the home in me call out 

to the Home of Forever in you,

listen well –

Its cello is burning

in my ears; its symphony

cannot be unwrit.

J. Pratt-Walter, © 4/2/2019