Music This Morning

Surprised at ourselves and sure to disapprove, We steal time after breakfast in midwinter's vise To loose Mozart into the room we daily leave; And no one leaves. The children, ready for school, Inextricably loiter guiltless as fish Tranced in a shadow of twine; we wiser ones, Pretending safe on the world's edge of doom, Gasp to discover what we have always known— The cat's-cradles looped from the same old colored yarns Some idly compassionate god twitched into life Become a nexus of all human time Held for a timeless instant sunspun and healed, Rippling with checkered gaiety. Then we go, Strengthless, but rich with unentitled grace.